Sand in toes,

Tofino.

 

That windy drive,

Endless hairpins,

Rolling me

Back and forth

Like the waves

Pulling me in

Closer.

Closer.

To the very edge

Of a country,

a continent,

Where all that’s left

Is a horizon

Of ocean

Wild, blue

Forever.

Like the edge

Of a planet

Seeing beyond

The universe

The mystery

The stars.

 

Salt-smell

Fills my nose,

Rushing water sounds

Fill my ears,

A constant reminder

Of

Waves.

 

I lick my lips

When it crashes cold

Over me.

I watch those waves

A long time

Feeling the pull,

The release,

The sway,

But not sensing

A rhythm,

Instead,

It’s random,

Consistently

Inconsistent,

Crashing,

Rolling,

Bringing in

The long distance

Water

Close.

 

It’s the power

That gets me.

The power of nature

All free.

Unrestrained.

And the surfers

Freckling the white caps,

All black,

All brave,

Playing in danger,

Enveloped in the power,

Not giving up.

 

When they return to shore

And pad down

The hard sand soaked beach

It’s like a resurrection

Each time.

They lay on their boards

And just breathe

Or sleep,

Restore power

To return

And play.

Play with a giant

They can’t predict,

A giant that draws them

Here

Beyond control,

Here

On the edge.

Then the gold and blue

Dims

And the beach

Empties

But the surfers stay.

I run

Up and down

Over the wet-sand

Dimpled pink and silver

Reflecting all

That riot of colour

Splashed above,

A celebration

Like waves

From the sun

flushing the sky,

who is holding all the gold,

lapping up the violet,

silhouetting all the forests

and springing out of me

all the praise.