As the tide rises, the closed mollusc
Opens a fraction to the ocean’s food,
Bathed in its riches. Do not ask
What force would do, or if force could.
A knife is of no use against a fortress.
You might break it to pieces as gulls do.
No, only the rising tide and its slow progress
Opens the shell. Lovers, I tell you true.
You who have held yourselves closed hard
Against warm sun and wind, shelled up in fears
And hostile to a touch or tender word—
The ocean rises, salt as unshed tears.
Now you are floated on this gentle flood
That cannot force or be forced, welcome food
Salt as your tears, the rich ocean’s blood,
Eat, rest, be nourished on the tide of love.
About the Author:
(Excerpt is taken from; https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/may-sarton)
May Sarton was a prolific author who was long considered by her very loyal readers to be a
gifted and sensitive writer of poetry, novels, and journals. Although at first overlooked by
literary critics, in the later part of her career reviewers and feminist academics began to discover
Sarton’s work, lauding her as an important contemporary American author.