Enetai November 25, 1980

They break so calmly down there,
Those waves which haven't any care;
While here we surge with little meaning,
But still maintain our foolish dreaming.

The wind blows gently 'round the point,
Breezes fresh this beach anoint;
But in our hurry, here we wait,
Our drift is at a different gait.

While sin beats down on windswept shoal,
Unknowing rocks break Nature's goal;
We draw upon another source,
To set our will upon its course.