The poet sketches in vivid detail the exhilaration of riding the foaming azure waves.
A light breeze comes forth.
The white foam and the bright kite
Flying high above
Soaring like a soul going towards heaven.
Kite flyer on the beach
Surfer in the deep sapphire blue ocean
riding on the exciting huge powerful wave.
Swimming successfully against the rough rip currents that want to drag me to the right.
Fighting the pound, pound, pounding of the waves unless I dive under,
boogie board strapped to my right wrist, floating behind as not to go asunder.
I reach the sandbar,
where my feet can touch once more,
Feeling safe and secure.
Watching the timing and height of each wave of azure and sea foam green on the horizon.
Only going for the ones that promise to powerfully push me forward with the forging feel of a
forward moving roller coaster ride.
I miss a few waves.
I am either too forward,
or I am behind.
Then it happens. I'm at just the picture-perfect spot at just the right time,
Flying forward leaving the sandbar behind,
yelling “Cowabunga!” with delight and satisfaction
So happy the force has so much swift action.
After the ecstasy of those monumental moments in time, I find myself in the bliss of those
relaxing small rolling waves, pushing gently, pushing gently to where I will beach in the sand,
basking in the bright sunlight.
A God made exhilaration, followed by a lingering lazy gentle drift. Drifting, drifting, drifting
slowing to the right.
Then get off the boogie board,
Smiling with delight.
I decide to make a sandcastle.
Moulding globs of sand into big boulders.
Circles of boulders with the drip, drip, drip of wet brown sand in the middle.
Building a tower of dripping sand,
soothing to my sight and hand.
My husband builds the moat, and we watch the sunset.
Pink, gold, purple luminous clouds turn into night
I have no sunburn or regret in sight.
The beach, the waves, the pelicans, all fill the poet's heart with glee and joy.
I see my white straw hat with the satin ribbon.
I long to take it to the beach.
The beach, where I run to, where the computer is out of reach.
The computer, where my hacker haunts me.
The hacker who has no morality.
I dive under the waves.
The waves that fill my soul with glee.
Pelicans come to swim with me.
They bob in the water.
It's time to ride the crest.
Surfing high up on that wave,
knowing it is God's ocean I am in.
Only God can make an ocean!
The wave takes me all the way to the shore.
The shore where I kiss the love of my life once more.
Deby Cedars started writing poetry and short stories at age 7. She wrote more when she was diagnosed with a mental illness at the age of 42. It was one of her many therapies. She now lives a happy and stable life with her Husband in Florida.