Naked Shore

WHEN all the shore of heart sings with the foam
Of waves beating upon it full and high,
Let it receive when the washing tide comes home
The light, the shadow, and the mystery.
The curving shadow of the standing wave,
The shining drift that ebbing waters leave,
The mystery that these deep waters have
Flow full on the heart, and let the heart receive.
Let there be nothing but the waves and sand,
Nothing to hide the ocean from the shore;
Let the wave still be singing in and stand
And fall and let the heart forevermore
Be overrun with ocean bright and dark,
Be evermore the moving water’s mark.