At land’s end

And at the ocean’s edge

On the frontier I dwell,

Flooded by the roar

And fullness of tide,

But unmoved.

I am my own world

With my own life.

Shell grit and the black shale

Are my fundament,

Dark as the mystery of Being.

Above, the soft grasses wave

Like aspirations

Reaching for the sun,

And small fish fly

Free as thought

Through the clear cool fluidity.

The world of a rock pool:

All the beauty and wonder of

Myself.