Tides

A new favourite spot. There’s always such a sense of force in this choppy corner.

The wind batters down in circles and a rumbling pressure draws up back and forth, the full pull of the moon. A transparent sheet separates and is shaped by the struggle.

Somehow soothing.

A storm comes and the cold thought we might shatter.

Maybe so.

maybe though, we’re not glass, but water.

Curiously pouring into unknown depths, flowing over sharp surprises here and there too close to the surface.

frenzy without, rhythm within.

we roll on.