The Wisdom of Seagulls

Among the rocks that edge the shore
She sits to tend the ebb and flow
As if by wish the tide returns
As if by calling slows.

On moonless nights she scans the waves
And listens for the distant horn
As if by sight the lost return
As if by ear they're found.

No seagull breaks the air with wing
Nor silence with its mournful call
As if by flight the chain is rent
As if by sound released.