Arms of the Ocean

Into the arms of the ocean

I went.

The brutal stormy wind

calmed me.

I feared storms,

yet when I felt the presence of it,

I felt calm.

The waves rose high,

a sailor’s fear

and a surfer’s dream.

How sweet and savory all

the world could be.

White caps battled brick and docks,

but when man builds something,

it is not to wreck.

Man builds what man believes in,

and so it is built well.

Pale sunset skies kissed away bad dreams,

and I am now left with no regret,

no fear of storms.

So into the arms of the forever quarreling waves,

I go.

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