The older I get,
the more I realize
how like the sea I am.
That liquid expanse of horizon –
always blue to me,
melancholic with longing,
a churning, churlish mass of feeling;
everything happening beneath the surface,
much like my own insides.
A soul at turns calm or chaotic,
but as quickly as it is stirred,
it bellows forth, a tempest of emotion
releasing and gentling itself.
ebbing and flowing as response,
some inner metronome
keeping a steady beat
like my heart.
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Photograph taken from White Noten, unsourced