Surfer

I am tan and half-naked.

On my head a harbor of blonde hair,
bleached by warm sunlight
and the sea’s salty air.

I am solo and free,
gliding across the face of a wave
on my quiet flight I am bound only by tiny bubbles
floating up to breathe at the ocean surface.

I am powerful
and at the same time,
powerless
as I dance with these webbed feet
on mother nature’s wet breast.

I feel the shift of her currents,
the swift churning of her ocean floor
she is always moving, never at rest,
a monument of which the waters of the world pour.

Her beautiful colors surround me,
pale to white, as the wave breaks into foam,
leaving me in the wake of crushed seashells,
before leaving me alone.

I carve and the tiny bubbles blend upside down,
slowly turning toward the top,
the foam separates and fades away.
Sun the sparkles all around me,
my soul is free.

I glide my fingertips gently,
along her glistening surface.
Three different shades greet me: blue, aqua and emerald,
embedding me in an ocean dream.

Kicking my board out from beneath me,
I go under and become a part of it all.

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