I Love the Ocean Because it Rejects Me

The walk that leads to the massive spread — glistening under the rays of the fiery sky — always indulges my steps with anticipation.

Revelers and players of life congregate to feast on what they have left. The remainders multiply as each wave ushers in new promises.

I dive in legs first.

The rush of a well-deserved welcome pushes my spirit to wade in deeper. The effortless hug that grips but releases you with reassurance — never fails to exhale the mental filth of a survivor.

To go under without wings and rise again with a cleansed soul and pure heart is the gift of regained coins that gather to enrich weathered spirits.

I toss around to manage the weight of awesomeness that wants to play even when I contemplate staying forever.

But I have to go back to being swallowed by the shallow offerings of earth and mankind.

One last dip and my love converts into salt- less tears that are rejected with another mounting wave — that crushes my defeat with love and well-wishes.

It is well to love and be loved in return. That is what I learn when I beg the ocean to receive me.

One last time. But then the sky…

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