Poem about the sea land in Pomes and Epigrams

What is the magic word
that will take me across
the sea-land?
The world is out there,
and as the sun sets
I could place
foot after foot
on the shining path
atop these rumbling waves
beyond the tumbling surf
to where it is calm
in the distance.
This hungry ghostliness
and yarn-ball of nerves
left on the sand,
receding behind, a smear
shrinking into a dot, a pica
while step by step
I am satisfied.