A Sea Without Waves

I remember
how I used to stand,
my tiny fingers clasped
around your strong hand
along a naked shore,
and speak to the waves,

calling out to them
with different names,
wishing upon the one
in the distance
to come and chase me
and wash over me
so I could laugh,
but that was the one
that never came,

not when I wanted it to.
and then, slowly, stealthily,
as if she had heard me,
she crept over me
in the gentlest of tickles
beneath my feet,
kissing me softly
like a mother I don't remember,
and at another time,
kept me waiting
for that gush of joy,
that rush of blood inside,
as she ran in to take me
in her swiveling arms,
always leaving me
surprised and amazed
at the power
of what could be,
when every wave
is simply seen
and received
for what it is.

that's how life goes on.
that's how I want to live.
a sea without waves
would have no name,
no shore,
no place to be.