Rolling Giants
Giants of the mysterious waters
rolling in from the ocean floors,
eternal motion of the ancient engines,
children of the Neptunian Gods
in their perpetual playing,
their swirling playful madness,
laughing with the moon and tides,
their rhythmic shuffling at sea,
moving into new generations
from the old,
perpetual waves ever rolling,
growing with the wind upon their backs,
rolling toward the shore,
their white columns of placid crystals
touching the shore and kissing the sand,
resting from a long journey
then returning back into the calm again
and losing themselves back into the sea,
or their mighty acts of demolition,
fighting with the rocks,
pounding the frightened shores
under the authority of the wild winds
from the nervous pacing of the clouds,
the entwining of their slimy tentacles
moving into and out of each other,
the entering into the pits of hell,
blending in with the witch’s potion,
tossing the ships around with no regret
under the auspices from the dark side
of the mind of Mother Nature,
from the anger of the black clouds,
consorting with the beast of the skies,
dancing with the lightning,
playing with the thunder,
and ravaging the tender shores,
those rolling giants, slaves of the clouds,
beasts of the deep, Neptunian devils,
children of the wayward wind,
those rolling giants they are.
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