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I stood on a cliff over-looking,
a fighting force full of mixed feelings.
As the wind whipped my hair,
and I felt the anger there.

The power,the pain, the unrestrained glory,
the wild and tempestuous story.
And I knew in my heart here was a friend,
and an enemy intermingled in.
Both bent on having one win.

Like a living thing it tossed and it turned,
and against the rocks its' white caps churned.
Like a heart full of pain or love, I'm not sure which,
it yearned with a continous burning itch.
To be understood, to be taken for it was,
no matter what move it made.
Or whatever it does.

The ocean it spoke to me that day,
as it bared its' heart on its' sleeve.
In a way no human can achieve,
revealing itself as just another beautiful thing.
That strived for understanding,
and I learned on the wing.

That not matter what we try to change,
how much or often we try to rearrange.
It would always have its' name,
moving with the wind yet always the same.

Learn more about this author, April Self.
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