Ripples

Each wave retreats

Like a child when the streetlights come on

Powerfully craving to go further

But drawn home to recharge

Dragging the sand with them

Ripples form,

A memory of their escape

A glimpse at their impressive power.

All pulled back to their home.

To honor their source.

To regain strength.

To go further next time.

But as the tide recedes,

it’s not about distance.

It’s about gracefully leaving your mark.

Walking away without regret.

You did your best.

You’ll come back tomorrow.

The ripples you left will fade.

They will become a new picture.

A new pattern.

The ebb and flow of femininity.

The setting sun reflects off the ripples.

Turning the memory a sultry shade of pink.

As if the sky is honoring the ocean’s daily work.

The ocean can change a landscape.

Bring life, bring devastation.

But most days, she chooses to use that power to gently kiss the sand.

To create her art.

Knowing she will create again tomorrow.