tale to tale

It steals the show,
All concentration and every sense.
There’s nothing I can hear more than the crashing and thundering claps.
Louder than my own head.

It’s like a child is screaming in my ear,
Filling my head with something other than the words I put to page.

It’s not subtle,
Bold and clear,
It makes the statement of a thousand voices.
It’s powerful,
And there’s no status to share.

What could be a retreat feels like a graveyard.
Large tombstones petrude from the surface of each freshly born wave that hits the sand.
A warning,
A clear declaration that it cannot be conquered.

I walk in,
Feeling it’s sharp and refreshing touch as I wait in the water.
Just tipping my toes and freeing my thoughts.
It brushes like a heavy dog,
But with each stroke it packs it’s punch,
No solace to have within it.
It is a constant force of change,
And man has no time in it.

It is liberating, to be this close to death.
I plunge myself in further,
To be taken so swiftly,
That it could feel like angels wings,
Comforted by a sudden desire to let go.
I let go,
And with the titan force, the light goes out.
And the angel drops me,
With a force that silences the thoughts,
And any hope of stillness in its embrace.

I am a tombstone, resting at the depth, I am another voice added to the thousands.
A single roar in its cloudy strike.

Or I wade, and I wait.