Wavewatcher

Like tiny mountain ridges,
slowly but surely coming to crash,
no alternative but to hit land,
To spread their push onto the sand.

Wind and rain amongst forces unknown,
Relentless and onward peaks of snow,
Cresting and vanishing seconds of life,
The farther from view they become more rife.

Separate seasons they just for the banks,
Lined up like soldiers in their glorious ranks,
Ripples to crashing height all have the same,
Energies not knowing how to refrain.

No time, no altered course,
Onwards, onwards growing from source,
A splash, a haze, lifting from the surface,
Disappeared without a second thought or trace.

Life from water, inside it and out,
Unknown to it, but still calling outwards,
It's same melodic, melancholy shout,
As the waves lap up, baying to be let out.

Onwards, Onwards, Onwards.