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raw's Journal

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I am a sea-shell flung
Up from the ancient sea;
Now I lie here, among
Roots of a tamarisk tree :
No one listens to me.

I sing to myself all day
In a husky voice, quite low,
Things the great fishes say
And you most need to know ;
All night I sing just so.

But lift me from the gound,
And hearken at my rim,
Only your sorrow's sound
Amazed, perplexed and dim,
Comes coiling to the brim :

For what the wise whales ponder
Awaking out from sleep,
The key to all your wonder,
The answers of the deep,
These to myself I keep.

~Geoffrey Scott

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