Everything happens at once
Nothing really changes
for the boat rocking
gently on its mooring.
It doesn’t matter if
the tide is coming
in or going out.
A seagull perches
on the faded buoy
and stares out to sea.
The dingy slaps the water
and the halliard’s
metal clasp on the mast
of the sailboat
sings in harmony.
How can motion and stillness
happen at the same time?
High tide is round and dark
and full and lush with ease—
until it’s suddenly gone.
And in it’s place, an expanse--
a low tide that’s wide and
sparkles with sun on shells—
seaweed covering rocks
hiding and revealing everything
at the same time.
The heron fishes
and the osprey screams
and there’s a swirl of fish
in the distance. Everything
is beautiful. Everything
is harsh. Everything
always happens
at once.
© 2024 Gretchen L Schmelzer, PhD