The Sea

In a way, I'm envious of the sea.
Its wide arms stretch open, Influencing emotions
like a twig fallen to an angry current.
I'm envious of its wholeness.
It is nothing more than a sea and it is nothing less than a sea.
It doesn't aim to impress,
it sits and engulfs its observers
in an unquenchable rapture by just being.
It answers no questions, it has no questions.
Flooding our senses,
it whispers to us
the key to happiness, love, success, yet is says nothing.
It dances on all shores of mankind yet exists in easy solitude.
Strong, natural manifestation of powe
however soft as such that it holds us on the surface,
cradling us in the breast of its organic immaculacy.
I kiss it with my fingers,
hanging down to touch the undomesticated and unobtainable sea,
praying its chasteness would surge through my veins
and make me whole.
The incessant tug and churn of the waves ripples
vividly through my mind as I turn away
for I know the sea will whisper to me another day.

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