This is an actual picture of La Jolla Cove where I sat to write this and was inspired by it all
Generations of waves sweep the shore.
Frothy their mouths foam and reach from each core,
fighting and twisting they race to the sand.
meanwhile, Mother Nature slurps back from the land:
"Come home where it's safe, where it's deep, where it's blue-
back to billions of gallons protecting over you!"
Still holding steady they sprint feisty-tight
against her pull they press with uncanny might.
Yearning for a chance at a life so different from dull.
Falling backwards, then upwards, rushing-pushing to pull.
"Maybe I'll be mud, I'll be dew, I'll be air...
These grains of rock give me freedom from the depths of despair!"
They fight swell by swell to a world of unknown,
some reaching cliffs with a burst to the stone.
Each will end different, some will retreat,
but those who fight vigorously, land they will meet,
swishing and swirling into-the-earth drops keep-
some to the skies, till the rain clouds seep...
All destinations are right, none are wrong
It's a circle that continues infinity long.
Destination dire- differences never clashing
Watch me struggle from the deep to reach the sand that I'm grasping.
by: Kindra McHenry
