It’s a well known fact that nearly every INFP feels an urgent need to create soulful art. This can appear in any form, be it writing, painting, music, or poetry. I’ve already dabbled in everything but poetry, so I shall try my hand at it.
Please remember this is a first attempt. Because this is a first attempt, and because the real meaning of this poem may remain inarticulate, I am forced to provide an explanation of it.
I love the ocean. But I do not know why! Everyone loves the ocean. It’s more of that people are pulled to the sea. But why?
A few nights ago I theorized that the pull of the sea comes from it being a life like form. It has a soul, but an impenetrable one. Staring at the sea is so compelling because it’s like staring into a mirror, staring at somebody. It’s you, but not quite you. You try to understand your reflection but you can’t.
Anyway, this could all be mumbo-jumbo, so bear with me:
What beckons, pulls man to land’s end?
Does he think the roaring, coursing foam will prove his friend?
With one roll the living waters can crush his life,
But he traverses the churning, briny strife.
He nearly worships the glistening curl,
The shifting, shining, emerald whirl.
And there are sun-gleaming paths he carves upon the ocean;
He has an insoluble thirst for the elusive horizon.
Oft times the waters pool about his feet, laced with pearly foam,
And he catches sight of a face, quivering in the waters, staring into his own.
Himself he sees inlaid in the shimmering shallows.
A wave rolls in and behind it a mountainous mass of blue follows.
He sees wave upon wave flowing, an interminable line of white crest:
The thoughts of the sea are kindly and fierce, all at the sea’s own behest.
Moments pass by and each wave, or thought, is different
He thinks and differs; the depth of his mind his infinite.
Before him stretches the impenetrable soul of the sea,
A capacity so deep and mysterious as his own soul is wont to be.
The salty wind brushes his face: the sigh of existence from the sentient expanse.
And then he sees it, the inextricable lure of the sea in one glance.
It’s as gazing into a mirror. As poignant, capturing, yet as futile.
For he cannot even understand the emotions behind his smile.
But perhaps this is only a glimmer of understanding that touches his eyes
And he has the true pull of the sea yet to realize.
Image is not mine.