Wave
A child of the everlasting tides,
born of the restless seas,
in a place of mystery and darkness,
on a mindless mission,
a formless entity
under the influence of a larger body,
born on the fifth day of creation,
put in eternal motion
by Neptunian hands to ever flow
and ride “til it kisses the shore,
from an ancient engine that never tires,
that moves the all powerful tides
that look up to father moon,
that sends its children to the surface
to join the others or act on their own,
to look at the moody skies and
their custom-made clouds,
their easy drifting
or nefarious swarming,
their intimacies with the devil,
those little children who grew up
to decide the fate of the ships,
to pull them down to their graves
or let them ride on top of the crests
and dive into the swells
until the rainbows come out and play.
They dance with their skirts up high
to the tempo of the whimsical wind.
They roll up to the shore
on the backs of their brothers and sisters.
They churn over and over as they
kiss the sand and look back at the sea,
then return to the calm until they
become another seed to be born again
at the mercy of the tides
and become another wave.
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