-

without rhythm they thrash

mercilessly onto the sand.

-

The deep blue body

disrupted throughout

with rebellious white patches…

-

Splatters of Splashes

which grow and grow and grow.

Creeping toward the shore

- Relentlessly.

Liquid so white from punching

the ground beneath it

- Unforgivingly.

-

Changing forms

- apparently -

from it’s forceful interaction

beneath the surface;

-

The ground

Unmoving,

Unwavering,

Unlike the sea

- active is She.

Changing, Moving, Rising, Falling.

-

She Flows every direction

- Undoubtedly -

without preference.

-

& as the sand differs,

Would Her liquid form maintain

without the face of a solid counterpart?

-

. . . To accept the Break.

-

The vast forces thrust

wave after wave after wave.

She breaks and grows back into herself.

-

Just like the Heart -

-

breaking against that which differs,

guaranteed to flow back into that from which it originates.

-

Becoming Whole again

to Break again.

Such is The Circle.