There is an undying gold hour in the relief of seeing the tide retreat until it returns with an ocean wave. You will be divorced from gravity, given wings of strife with no directive of how to swim, paddle, or survive by the newest flood you're expected to keep your head above. Always remember rough waves—no matter how tumultuous—are as evanescent as the renaissance of summer skies and those sun-caressed evenings that will rest eternal within you well past the peak of later years as long you don't concede and allow the water to extinguish your flame-lit soul. So hold your head high. You are ready for the next crash. You will always be ready. Instead of 'survive', strive to thrive In the tide.
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Surf safari mantra.
Waves sound words,
Pound sand underneath—
Feet that ride up above
The tide that crushes
Those below with a sun rise glow.
As a lover of sea and sky, this sang to me 🌊