the waves finally stopped.
the ocean returned to a mellow drift.
the smell of salt splashed my face like water against the jagged rocks.
i slowly dragged my fingertips along the face of the smiling sea.
finally at rest.
the relaxation didn't last a coon's age.
the water had wars against itself.
battles they could not handle themselves, needing time to recover their lost hope.
hoping to put an end to an everlasting controversy.
the smashing sounds of water against rock reminds me of harsh rain storms.
the dark clouds shooting bullets at our homes.
not needing to take cover, but feeling as if you should.
as if it's what we are supposed to do.
battles aren't just faced in the ocean.
