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29 Mar, Sunday
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ocean poems

Poems About the Magic and Beauty of the Ocean

With Pisces season in full swing and summer still feeling so far away, I have been finding myself longing to be in the presence of the ocean. I have been fortunate enough to live by the coast for my entire life. The ocean plays a pivotal role in my mood, so much so that even just driving by the beach in the winter months to watch the waves rise and fall can leave me feeling rejuvenated in ways I can’t explain. The ocean is magical, it is healing. 

 

Water is considered the elixir and source of life. Because it covers more than 70% of the Earth’s surface, makes up nearly 70% of our bodies, and constitutes over 70% of our hearts and brains, this deep connection I feel is actually a biological response that triggers a flood of neurochemicals to the brain. 

 

Just the sight and sound of the ocean can “promote wellness, increase blood flow to the brain and heart and induce relaxation.” Being immersed in ocean water or just in the presence of it can promote spiritual and physical energy balance as the current in the water actually act as restorative, relaxing, and soothing energy. 

 

To honor this magical element of mother nature, here are five poems about the sea and her healing power. 

 

Song Of The Sea By Rainer Maria Rilke

Timeless sea breezes,

sea-wind of the night:

you come for no one;

if someone should wake,

he must be prepared

how to survive you.

Timeless sea breezes,

that for aeons have

blown ancient rocks,

you are purest space

coming from afar…

Oh, how a fruit-bearing

fig tree feels your coming

high up in the moonlight.

 

The Ocean By Nathaniel Hawthorne 

The Ocean has its silent caves,

Deep, quiet, and alone;

Though there be fury on the waves,

Beneath them there is none.

The awful spirits of the deep

Hold their communion there;

And there are those for whom we weep,

The young, the bright, the fair.

Calmly the wearied seamen rest

Beneath their own blue sea.

The ocean solitudes are blest,

For there is purity.

The earth has guilt, the earth has care,

Unquiet are its graves;

But peaceful sleep is ever there,

Beneath the dark blue waves.

 

Sea of Strangers by Lang Leav 

 

Sail Away By Rabindranath Tagore

Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat,

only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our

pilgrimage to no country and to no end.

In that shoreless ocean,

at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies,

free as waves, free from all bondage of words.

Is the time not come yet?

Are there works still to do?

Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore

and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests.

Who knows when the chains will be off,

and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset,

vanish into the night?

 

Dover Beach By Matthew Arnold

The sea is calm tonight.

The tide is full, the moon lies fair

Upon the straits; on the French coast the light

Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,

Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.

Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!

Only, from the long line of spray

Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,

Listen! you hear the grating roar

Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,

At their return, up the high strand,

Begin, and cease, and then again begin,

With tremulous cadence slow, and bring

The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago

Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought

Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow

Of human misery; we

Find also in the sound a thought,

Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith

 

Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore

Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,

Retreating, to the breath

Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear

And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we are here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.