Shorebreaks (Thought Auditing pt. 2)

[oats]

the shorebreak sings me melodies, the sway of its ebb is
telling me to let my memories persuade where I'm heading
raised in these waters, this beach is my most sacred possession
sand and saltwater communion - my first taste of perfection
I remember seeing rainbows in the spray of the sections
the full spectrum of light painted in a graceful impression
I played in the sets, mistaking the cascade of their crescents
as mirrors of the moon that made them - nature's way of inception
each wave is a lesson; be prepared to bathe in correction
whether for hubris in your usefulness or brazen aggression
but cradle your breath! there's hope if you can make the connection -
that there's zen in the helplessness beneath the weight of oppression

as the sun fades in the west, the crowds'll disband
exposing shoreline like an overbitten mouth of the land
I hide my toes in it, close my lids for hours, then stand -
the closest I can get to growing out of the sand.
doubt grips my hand, waves crash closer than they ever did
erosion ripped the beach out from the places that I left it in
troubled kid, nowhere to fit, this ocean was my sedative
sanctuary for the ill at ease, my private leper settlement.

my regret-impediment begins to slowly surface
pushed toward the shoreline by the salt-corroded currents:
trans-pacific ambitions, the glint of golden merchants
are now scars lodged in my psyche - my soul is holding urchins
a rush of cold controls my urge to walk back from the beach
the wind wakes whispers of opportunities, laughing at me
here I stand - at the scene of my passion receding
beholden to ghosts of trophies of my atrophied dreams

what happened? it seemed I was destined for the firmaments
excellently nourished - back for seconds of encouragement
piled it on, I was god! shedding questions I was burdened with
no obstacles to conquer - why address if you can circumvent?
but the true seconds I was nurtured in were sobering moments
of painful vulnerabilities, times with nowhere to go,
when I was cold, on my own, hopeless, broken, alone and
5000 stone-throws removed from the consoles of the ocean…

but the moans of my coast uprooted me - and foolishly
I left the home of my growth hoping to return to what I used to be
I assumed the beach was still the canvas for my lucid dreams
but those useless pleas are moot to seas - I arrived to speak its eulogy
nostalgia - such a cruel belief! but nature had another plan
my beach, once expansive, now a thin strip of its sunken sand
who I was, am, and want to be abrade into one crumbled man;
my life’s reflected by the fate of how the waves hit the mother land

I stutter-stand, torn between the stasis of comfortable
and the miles of my desires: the sacred and wonderful
places I’ve been chasing, mistakes that I’ve come to know
but haste has been replaced since I’m afraid of the undertow -

the problem is I got more ideas than minutes
more ambitions to begin than I have reasons to finish
more horizons to explore than I have means to their limits
more pulpits to preach from than there are people to listen
the seas crease to a grimace - the winds of change stir up a breeze in the distance
years of growth across the ocean rise and screech to this instant
but the question is will destiny be seized or relinquished?
will I make it to my feet or let the beach take me with it?

I wade knee-deep in the shallows, feel the past
rushing over me, a hopeless plea to leave it at last
weakening stance - I close my eyes to taste the adventure
Calling me. I stall and see the next wave is a lecture
So I duckdive. Let the water eddy around me
Embrace the vertigo of indecision, expectation and changing surroundings
Patiently drowning. I'm a rag doll, a toy for the ocean
In exchange for the knowledge to be still and enjoy the commotion