Swaying are the waves,
A push and pull in place,
Sustained by what we cannot see,
The moon’s watchful eyes
Water rich and cold, renews.

Each wave breaks
And sheds a little more,
Making room to feel the sun.

Swaying are the waves,
Perpetually dancing,
Never ceasing,
Breathing in the golden light of dawn,
The purple haze of dusk;
Swaying are the waves,
Facing the horizon every day.