Does the sea
mourn the wave
that crashes to the shore?
Do other waves agree
The sea
Was better formed before?

Does a wave bemoan its destiny?
Hope to head away,
Avoid the rising sea bed,
Seek to keep the beach at bay?

Take the tiny little wave, that gently goes to ground,
Tilting pea-sized pebbles with softest shushing sound,
As it fades,
Unnoticed,
And ends its time so calmly,
Does it wish
It had been mightier?
Dream of being a tsunami?

Could a wave,
If feeling brave,
Choose its size or form?
Decide to be a ripple
Even in the fiercest storm?

I’m daft to ask these questions.
The sea feels no emotion.

There’ll be no grave
To mark the wave
That fades back into ocean.