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The world had caved in on me once again and I counted the pressure

looked outside and felt sad unbalanced restless and torn from myself

Wild winds were brewing and surfing the waves seemed out of question

sand in hollow eyes caused me to cry out to the Universe for a message


The only perfect matter is imperfection and permanence is a myth

so much my grandmother taught me when she told me her story of

waiting in the fishermen’s hut by the beach for her man to come back

a lantern by her side for good luck but he died in an unforgiving ocean


And yet every night from thereon she sat on a bench facing the sea

cried lonely tears carried on mending nets and dressed in black garb

nestled sea shells like rosaries watched the lighthouse that had failed

to save her husband and nevertheless counted her blessings in faith


There is salt on my skin and I once tasted love that will never leave me

some things last forever and my memories will never fade from memory

I admired her for her resilience and belief in eternal values and strength

and look back on her life when sorrow overcomes me and rips me apart


A modern woman myself I wished for such power and crested the sway

rip tides and unrelentless currents that moved me in torment and deluge

Whenever I needed to remind myself of death and braving my plight

I took to my surf board and tempted crested breakers’ natural might


So one time for that reason I decided to wax my resolve and catch spindrift

tease combers and gravitation and set out to face the cliffs in bold courage

which did not appear to be a good safe place to stay in peace and one piece

My friends called it foolhardy especially when drowning in internal gloom


To make the task harder I set out in darkness and followed the starlight

far out from the shore in crushing weather forecast not to ever return

It did not take me long thereafter to catch that perfect almighty surge

and knew that this was reckoning beckoning and one final desperate ride


One more lick of my lips one ultimate farewell to terminal apathy and off

I went on a make-or-break passage into the underworld of endmost despair

and crushed into a blow hole that threw me high up into the air in surprise

wounded and yet unperturbed by survival I crawled away from the edges


That is when I realized that this had been the quest for meaning and hope

my tale to tell my offspring to nurture their feelings when times got rough

Joy harmony and tranquil rescue can be unaffected by external forces

but it is the seeking inside that grants permanence further down the line


10th February 2021
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