ONLY a log washed up past the pebbled beach
is testament to the waves which have thundered
high up into the brutal bruised ether.
But today the sun sinks down a benign sky
painting a silver corridor in the channel
for the god of rage now sleeps for a while
and just for once I can see people smile.
A giant snake of cars leaves Barry Island
for it seems as if it’s the first day for a year
that the sky is as blue as the Arabian sea.
I skim a pebble into the calm water
as a seagull glides majestically above
and all my troubles have been left behind,
I feel part of the universal mind.