Gnomic

Thought didn't make desire:
Thought rides a narrow board
Across a giant wave
Evoked by wind and tide
And swelling in the sun.

This wave is my desires—
Shaped by my long descent
In nerves within my skull,
Called up by play of force
Across my senses' surface—

And all that thoughts are for
Is picking out an aim
Through rocks and coral reefs
Onto a golden beach
Where foam explodes around them.