Ocean

The wind whipped fronds clamoured above,

But I paid no mind as I stepped from the palms.

Before me a single moon-crescent of white sand,

Then boundless, furious seas, stretching, reaching, distantly.

The ancient goddess, Ocean, roared her torment.

Deep, brooding blues and greys,

Frosted with foaming white,

A reflection of the troubled sky.

Before me, that great lady threw up her walls,

Ten-foot-high, to crash down upon my sliver of sand,

Paying no heed to the small creature who looked on in wonder.

What had aroused that ageless force?

I stood still, captivated by her wild power.

And that terrible, beautiful fury, wrenched

One whisper into the wailing gale:

“Magnificent.”