The Sea

This Fence, this gateway toward the limitless, and why? We inherit fences, padlocks, walls, prisons. We inherit limits. And why? Why didn't we reject, at birth, everything granted to us and everything we did not include? The fact is that we had to agree before being. After being and knowing one learns to fence in and to close up. Our wretched contribution to the world is a narrower world. Beyond these useless bars, the sea, which really doesn't know it is circumscribed, doesn't recognize it, is singing. Its violence is bitter; its song is a crashing sound. Its revolutionary foam speaks to me and explodes, speaks to me and collapses, calls to me and is already gone. The sea sings and pounds; it's not in its right mind. Don't tie it down. Don't lock it up. It is still being born. The water crashes against the stone and its infinite eyes open for the first time. They close again, not to die, but to keep on being born.