The Rise and Fall of Waves
A giant wave rises to its peak
and as that curved aqua stream
in tightly woven strands comes down,
a thunderous crash is born,
its impact a devastating sound,
obliterating those strands of water
exploding in churned directions,
so profoundly bound
by a turbulent aftermath,
a white foamed mound of hissing subsidence.
And in that settling
remnants of sands tumultuous rise
subside and fall to ground,
water clearer, foam dispelled,
as crests and lows abound,
like rhythmic aftershocks,
as if a sigh, a relenting,
meant for a balanced ending,
in wake of might and sound
to a wave profound.
Then in distant view a rise ensues,
the swelling intent
of another wave intrudes,
and slowly that wall of aqua green
does aspire through the foamy sea,
to rise again in majesty
and see what more it can do
in the rhythmic cycles of form,
so spectacular it imbues
an innate fear, of its powerful hues.
With such a bone-breaking thud,
that stream of water crashes,
lashing hard those water whips,
and splintering into shards,
foamy panic and bubbled dreams,
explosions of all that seems
to break all means of survival,
as turbulence abounds,
in undulations mesmerizing,
sympathizing with its will.
And so the cycle continues
until the tide changes in gloaming light,
and calmer will it be,
a sea at rest after such a test of endurance,
and that aqua turns to deepest blue,
then purple beneath those stars
studded into the night,
as seas abate, in calm repose,
to rest its weary throws,
until in light it chooses to rise once more.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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Oh, how I love the ocean, the sounds of waves and seagulls, the smell of saltwater, and the sense of freedom felt when viewing it. The ocean is so alive, so powerful, yet so calming when listened to. You paint it so vividly with a fine rendering of its cycles, Tony. Beautiful work.
Thank you Phyllis, so glad you enjoyed it. The sea has always had a special place in my life and I often yearn for its serene effect on me. Cheers!