GABU

Carlos A. Angeles

The battering restlessness of the sea

Insists a tidal fury upon the beach

At Gabu, and its pure consistency

Havocs the wasteland hard within its reach.

Brutal the daylong bashing of its heart

Against the seascape where, for miles around,

Farther than sight itself, the rock-stones part

And drop into the elemental wound.

The waste of centuries is grey and dead

And neutral where the sea has beached its brine,

Where the split salt of its heart lies spread

Among the dark habiliments of Time.

The vital splendor misses.  For here, here

At Gabu where the ageless tide recurs

All things forfeited are most loved and dear.

It is the sea pursues a habit of shores.