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Cory Bailey

Restless

The cliffs of sanity loom in the distance.
Its sound beckons me forth;
The sound of falling rock, of stone.
Stone once safe, safe in its nest of quartz.
In mountains it resides.
Free from the burdens of time.
Away from all the sounds;
They talk to me all at once it seems.
Louder the hum of people grows.
I long for the sea.
A resting place on this journey.
The calm of crashing waves.
The cover of the ocean,
Resting it seems to the eye.
And resting it is.
For soon it will shift into a wild frenzy.
Always calm again, but not long.
Until it urges the gulls away once more.