Low Tide.


Time and turbulence are natural teachers. Church-going folk are now drawn to their preachers. Nature is my balm for sublime uncertainty. The ocean, my habitat for divine convergency.

At sunrise or sunset, nature’s global dimmer,
I wade into the sea like an open water swimmer.

High tide brings safety, no signs of rocks below.
Awash in money, the economy will always flow.

But, it’s during the docile, solemn low tide
That I come face-to-face with my sad, blown pride.

Rocks glisten, scurrying crabs plentiful.
I feel at one as the dutiful sentinel.

I breathe in the bright algae and seaweed,
Marveling at the magic in this twice-daily recede.

This ritual recede feels like a reseeding of my soul,
Connected to the earth as part of a bigger whole.

The tidepools’ sturdy urchins and anemone
Give courage to bear assault from any enemy.

Bad times reveal my subliminal emotion.
Low tides reveal the wonders of the ocean.

Yet, we scurry to our preachers, needy for the predictable.
When nature’s tides offer us something that is explicable.

Good times and bad times are the cycles of nature’s rhythm.
And, it’s during the low tides when we cultivate our wisdom.

The wise Buffett from Omaha offers this closing, no doubt,
“You never know who’s swimming naked ‘til the tide goes out.”

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