Metamorphosis
The ocean beast leaps forward,
Then slinks back, lying in wait.
It tosses its billowy mane, and,
With a snarl, springs up and pounces
On the slippery black rocks of the jetty,
Frothing at the mouth and
Pawing at the slick wet stones,
Sending a shower of salty spray
And spume foaming over the seawall,
Drenching the cars creeping by
And the slicker-clad pedestrians.
The sea, raging in its fury,
Reaches me in that secret place
Where anger and frustration dwell.
I stand on the shifting sand,
Wave my fist and shout into the wind,
And the untamed wildness shakes out
My carefully tended hurts and slights
And tears open scarcely mended wounds,
Washing them clean with antiseptic
Sea and salt and sound and sight.
Tomorrow my wayward thoughts,
Just like the beach, will be swept clean.
The sea no more an angry beast!
A newborn day will find the bitterness
Dissolved in early mists of morn,
And my spirit once more lightened,
Free from petty gripes and fears!
The sea will sparkle in the rising sun
That glitters, dancing, on the waves.
And, deep within, there will be peace.
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