Treasures of Acadia

I left my bed in search of morning’s bay,
For sustenance, I fled my shadowed room.
Its vastness clear, the tide began to play,
And spread before me, shining into bloom.
I sought the dawn that broke beyond the sea,
Its silver tide, a path of light to me.

It shimmered—Acadia’s coast in dawn’s embrace,
As foaming waters crashed on shelves of stone.
The ledges sank beneath the ocean’s face,
While golden sunlight traced its course alone.
The rocks grew smooth beneath the ceaseless wave,
And clouds drifted with edges bright and brave.

The granite mountains rose with trees for crowns,
Like giants carved by ice in ages past.
Beneath their cliffs lie secret, hidden towns,
Where treasures slept untouched by mortal grasp.
The waters broke on sand with salt-white spray,
While sunlight danced across the newborn day.

The mussels clung with whelks and shells in mud;
They gleamed like northern stars through tidal flow.
The deep had held them long in secret flood,
Yet now the waters moved and chose to show,
Bestowing gifts to all who braved the sea,
And stilled my soul in reverie’s decree.

The eastern clouds turned gold across the sky,
As dawn unveiled the world in symmetry.
All hushed, my thoughts in breathless silence lie,
While mountains rose in rugged majesty.
The cliffs, like giants carved by glacial hand,
Guarded the cove half veiled by spray and sand.

Its treasures slept unknown, yet not alone—
The shells that gleamed like stars beneath the tide.
The mussels in their bar, the whelks on stone,
Kept silent watch until the waves complied.
And in that hour the waters pulled away,
They gifted me their hoard beside the bay.