A tide is but a celestial calling
An invitation to a grave strong dance
Where each partner circles the other
In barycentric intent
Oceans and air whirling like skirts
Though one partner be bare, 
A skyclad lunatic.


Each ripple in Earthly spheres
Calls out across untold years 
As cosmic oceans of gas and dust
Ripple and curl in their turn,
A harmony of pressing in
And retreating with intent.