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In time we'll hear the song again. The song the ocean sings when you stand alone at the end of a pier, deafened to the noise of people behind you.
I stood upon the bow of a ship, tiny and frail, once. Behind me screaming in terror students and teachers. Young and old. Both alike.
But the ocean did not embrace me in evils.
It only gave me the gentle tug and a light hug of love.
It amazed them that the ocean was so kind, to someone so small.
When it would gladly rip the strong from their feet and split them into pieces.
I do miss when it felt that nature loved me.
Perhaps that's what has gone missing in this world.
I stood upon the bow of a ship, tiny and frail, once. Behind me screaming in terror students and teachers. Young and old. Both alike.
But the ocean did not embrace me in evils.
It only gave me the gentle tug and a light hug of love.
It amazed them that the ocean was so kind, to someone so small.
When it would gladly rip the strong from their feet and split them into pieces.
I do miss when it felt that nature loved me.
Perhaps that's what has gone missing in this world.
