On the Crest of a Wave

There is a spot where spirits blend
And friend with fellowship meets friend,
Through fluctuating smiles and tears
Like screaming waves to our deaf ears.

And constant is the ceaseless beat
Of water lapping round our feet;
Then sinking back from whence it came
Once more to rise and fall again.

Each crested with white crowns of glory
They leap ahead before their time,
And seem to tell a different story.
As they crawl back to the brine.

Like the unheard beat of time
It is continuous for who can stop it.
A noisy, surging sea of tears,
A miracle or a dream that rotted.

Then it advances on our years
Where we play with words for there's nothing to say;
It grips the shingles, and claws and tears
As its finger-like rivulets melt away.

In the beginning was the word
But the word had been said before;
So now we assume time is, time was,
But time shall be no more.