It’s crystal clear in times of peaceful stillness.
It lightly ripples in the changing winds.
And it bubbles just before the waves.
As many times as you think you’d rather not be trapped in those waters,
It calls to you in a moment of beauty.
It draws you in with the promise that it will be just like this moment, but better.
Then the waves come, crashing against you.
It effortlessly pushes back against everything you give to it.
Somehow you remember it better than it was.
It’s not something that can ever really belong to you…
Even if that’s your desire.
Even if it makes that promise to you.
Like all things in the present, those moments become the past.
In the end, you have to come back to shore.
Will the water miss you when you're gone?