What has the roar of the sea

on a deserted beach

that suspends time,

wash away the sorrows

and lulls the soul?

***

Under its spell,

the mind seems to breathe

following the rhythm of the deep lungs

of that imposing greatness

that comes and goes without resting.

***

No music has been written

that equals its powerful balm

over the lost spirits

that run along its shores

or ply its waters.

***

Maybe it’s the force

of its magnificent depth

that approaches in foam

to wet our feet

and sink them in the sand.

***

Maybe it’s the echo 

of millions of voices:

The ones of those 

who have lived or perished

loving or hating its waters.

***

Maybe it’s the sudden vision

of the tininess of our personal stories

in the scene of eternity

we glimpse while standing

before opening horizons.