The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
Restless as a young heart,
Hunting.

The sea speaks
And only the stormy hearts
Know what it says:
It is the face
          of a rough mother speaking.

The sea is young.
One storm cleans all the hoar
And loosens the age of it.
I hear it laughing, reckless.

They love the sea,
Men who ride on it
And know they will die
Under the salt of it

Let only the young come,
     Says the sea.

Let them kiss my face
     And hear me.
I am the last word
     And I tell
Where storms and stars come from.

Added: on May 7th, 2007 at 2:10 PM | Viewed: 3651 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 22. Young Sea
Volume: Chicago Poems
- Fogs and Fires
Year: Published/Written in 1916

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