Winter surf at Point Lobos

The wave explodes - its unformed fingers seek the sky
The sudden white veil falls as mist and spray rain on the hard dark rock beneath.
Hissing, the wave returns to the sea - to be replaced by another, and another.
Sometimes larger, sometimes smaller
Always tumultuous, wild, free.

I know well another set of waves - life long companions that course within my veins.
Sometimes faster, sometimes slower.... always there, rhythmic, reassuring.
This measured beat defines my mortal existence —
but my soul envies
the tumultuous, wild freedom
........of surf.




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