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The Ocean

by

He gazed upon the ocean with eyes both weary and reborn.
No matter the outcomes, if still breathing he would always come here
To grieve, cry out, or quietly rejoice.

The waters would absorb whatever he brought them.
The tides at once dispassionate and intimate as any lover.
Waves tumbling forth, loud enough to drown out the curses
Tides receding, soft enough to hear the pleas for second chances
The waters fathomless, whether for contrition or gratitude.

Yes, he would come here if he should be the one to survive
And record his anguish in the drift.

Defiantly reveling in the sun,
Selfishly wanting for more than could ever be given.

And when the search for the halcyon ended,
He'd walk the beckoning coastline,
Lifting his face to the sting of the wind.

Yes, he would come to the ocean
And if comfort was not to be had
He would swim forth to embrace the possibilities as yet beyond his reach.

THE END