Always there, waiting

Sometimes I sit down to write a poem, sometimes a poem sits me down to write it, and sometimes someone sparks one off of me.  Thanks, T., for a question you may not have known you asked:

Always there, waiting

Time and tide may not wait, but
The sea herself is patient. All gods
Within her, too; their realm is first,
Fuller; deeper than dry land is tall.
Each drop of rain tastes of the abyss,
Each downflowing trickle of stream
Is a tendril, like seaweed, calling-
Siren and Whale and Admiral,
Or Earth-shaking trident-wielder,
Or nine-daughtered Ship-slayer,
Or mist-cloaked Trickster,
Or oh so many Others-
They all sing in the salt flow
In our veins, and choose or not
We are always, helpless, listening.

— 7/16/17