My muse

Once in a while my muse surprises even me. This from today... (sorry, my muse doesn't do punctuation some days).

standing on a slippery rock, jutting out of the ocean. i stand defiantly in the face of the relentless waves and intense wind. the waves have been disturbed from their normal ebb and flow, instead they hurl themselves at the shore with thunderous crashes. the frothing water surrounds me, licking at my feet, like a hungry predator. i have fallen off my perch more times than i can count. my body is bruised and scarred from the tide's tumult and it's latest angry attack.

but i will not be removed from my perch for more than the time it takes to climb back on. though sometimes it may take a lifetime, the process of struggling back upon the rock is the only thing that gives me hope. the promise that i will stand with the storm behind me and the calmed waves offering a gentle bed for the setting sun. it's a picture i keep in my mind for the days of the darkest storms - for the days when i cling to my rock until my fingers ache, my knees and elbows bloody from the surf's constand pounding.

it will be calm again, i know. the sun is still behind those angry clouds, ready to shine it's brilliance like a precious jewel to those who have yearn to see it, and ached to feel it's gentle warmth.

it will be calm again...