To the Ocean in Winter

Poem by Jean. L. Kreiling

Unsleeping sea, as constant as the air,
undaunted by abandonment, you shame
both man and beast, each huddled in his lair—
so faint of heart they fled when autumn came.
Cold cannot make you cower.  You still roar
and roll; you rise as if to slap the sky,
then pounce to rearrange the grit on shore,
unmuted by the wind’s unkindest cry.
We claim a salty kinship, but we keep
our distance—frail, fair-weather friends at best—
while your still uncooled ardor lies too deep
to be distracted.  Like a heart obsessed,
you beat and break unseen all winter long,
forgiving us with your unceasing song.