They are the only ones who encourage me. I am the only one who encourages them. Five clashing waves with short tides and strong currents like mine. Five who are distinct but are empathetic. Five unpredictable rip curls created by nature. From the shore, we can see them, but people just relax to their sounds and underestimate their power.
Their intensity is secret. They send forceful storms from the depths of the ocean. They shoot up and they crash down and grab the earth between their grimy hands and engulf the town with a current so strong and never quit their fury. This is how they float.
Let one forget his reason for being, they’d all sink like the Titanic hitting an iceberg, each curling up against each other. Float, float, float they say when I lose hope. They cope.
When I am too scared and too tired to keep floating, When I am a palm tree against a hurricane, then it is I look at waves. When there is nothing left to look at on this beach. Five who floated despite the gust. Five who hope and do not forget to hope. Five whose only reason is to encourage me.