Give and Take

The waves crush abandoned shells,

crashing, pounding storms,

water a vice of power

rendering stone to

tiny bits,

again.

Is it any wonder that

we run from the tiny

drops of rain?

Afraid, we are,

of being torn,

or worn

away.

Rendered meaningless,

forgotten,

mere grains of sand

scattered about

the surface of the ground.

Seek shelter,

they tell us,

lest you find yourself

astray.

Yet nothing soothes

the fevered brow,

like the soft caress,

of water’s touch.

Cool, serene,

she tends our weariness,

soaking away

the worst parts of

ourselves,

leaving us

purified in the wake

of her whisper waves.

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3 comments on “Give and Take

  1. ozymandiaz says:

    me thinks i shall await warmer weather though

  2. purple says:

    Water is an amazing companion, and your poem captures its essence and familiarity well. Enjoyed reading through a few of your poems. Will drop in again!

  3. ejalvey says:

    Ozymandiaz–:)

    Hi Purple,

    Thank you! I am glad you stopped by. Hope to see you again.

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