Frigid, by an icy ocean,
Standing there in indecision,
Slippery as truth, or oysters —
And, perhaps, you know the feeling
Chamomile and frozen kisses,
Laughing then beside the waters,
Holidays and joyful messes —
Maybe you have known the feeling
All is cycle, long repeating,
Up and down like waves receding,
In a Kalevala rhythm —
But you might just know the feeling