For waves the sea recedes and rocks that mark its bed,
One sees where sand lets go of another ones dread.
In swelling, falling, crashing, rising, each one tells of the others end.
In vain they argue, a discord of water and sand,
Their frigid spectators, the cliffs behind and the vigilant land.
Such steep demands, the sand tolerates no tribute,
Endlessly dancing in rebellion, they inevitably convolute.
Beasts of Articulation 