The Surf

April 4, 2012
By Anonymous

The swift, smooth roll of the wave beneath your board.
The salty taste that fills the air, and the shallow coating
That covers your mouth.

When it comes?your movement?
Practiced and remembered,
Gracefully taking place

Your arms strain against the board,
As you push yourself upward,
Moving forward as you decide.

One foot up,
The second foot follows,
You’re atop the hard, gripping surface of the beauty
That lies beneath your feet.

Standing at a slight tilt forward,
You succeed and begin to move with speed.
The roll of the sea foam and the call of the gulls
Distract your immediate attention.

In movement, you can feel everything,
Fast, furious, mesmerizing;
With a rotation, you are in control.
The board moves with you,
You are one, and you are free.

When the vivacious beast below you
Lets go of the fury and seeps into the rest of its mother water,
Uneasiness hits you rapidly.

Suddenly, you’re below the surface of your once controlled giant,
Feeling the tide pull you towards shore.
You wait for the pull to release,
And feel for the board.

It’s there,
Connected to you,
Anticipating the rush, wind, and tinged sea air,
Waiting for you to rise again.

The author's comments:
The beach is a place like a home, but its the ocean that completes the feeling.

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