A Raging Song

A Poem on The Tide & Our Short Lives

The tide rushes and rages
In it sweeps, foams and curls
Stretching over sand and rock
Crashing and spraying
— exhaling as a veiled mist

Sure and violent it came
Quick as lightening
Full as thunder
Roaring as it sings
— spending itself thin

Racing to be noticed
Lost in the chaos
Faithful to its task
Reaching for the shore
— laying down to sleep

The tide repeats, returns, rages again
Always coming for a brief moment
Overlooked but never wasted
It inhales, fills, gathers, swells
— only to give itself away.