On the beach’s long curve, gulls strut their names

into wet sand, seaweed scrawls tangled stanzas;

a piece of driftwood’s smooth-pearl journey ends

in a sandstone fissure.
Dunes and spinifex collaborate on parables, ancient

as rocks, balancing thoughts of the first

dry land; a eucalypt pondering death, casts

its human myth,
before the horizon fades into the grey metal sky,

to speak with like-minded continents;

the prophet moon wanders along borders,

performing stars fill theatres,
but the sea teaches the language of rips, hauling

a body to deeper science, yet, the murmuring

sound of spray, carries to sensitive hearts.

Then there is the white roll and splash of words
fused to a rock; this anonymous idea, captured

in a weak escape of fluorescent light.

It will be read next day, or next year

perhaps even, becoming the anthem

that mends the world.