become an ocean

effortless, like the sheen of water
quiet, gentle, still
depths below keeping their secrets
reflecting light until
subtle motion, a premonition
of things to come, tidal ambition
the gathered droplets
overwhelmed, but saved
a ripple yearns to be a wave

the wave pushes, seeking the shore
encouraged by the moon
meeting cracked shells and broken glass
left behind to impugn
he recedes always knowing
all the sand will remain
but the lure
of what could be more
becomes a constant pain

the wave remembers coming together
droplets from every sea
some forced, some keen
some in-between
he thinks there’s a storm inside of me

the moon reminds
because she’s kind
of her unwavering devotion
there to lead
when he recedes
saying, “a wave is part of the ocean.”