Waves Bow, So Do I

 There’s a way motion expands in different forms that invites me to a place where I try to face premature grief, sadness, and anxiety with eyes wide open.

Let it all consume me.

Let it inspire me to reach the point where I finally grasp the meaning of it all—a perspective I’ve been missing, information I may have closed myself off from.

I don’t know if it’s the vastness of it all, the never-ending depth, or the calm waves that crash into each other in shifting forms, speeds, and tones.

Maybe I relate to the admiration it receives, the intriguing nature it holds for any observer.

Maybe I’m curious about that natural tone, so evident, as familiar as my own breath.

Maybe I’m confused by how the noise it makes is only the result of an expression, not what it truly is.

Or maybe it’s the willingness to bow to everything outside itself, to humble itself continuously, that fascinates me most—bowing as a sign of respect for something it knows is part of it.

I just love how the waves bow to me, reminding me of who I am.

Everything that deserves to be bowed down to by a force as powerful as me.