Storms of Life

Waves abate from the shore,
Cast into the sea the rustling foam.
Tossed fearlessly about, into chaos once more.
The constant movement, slows, not a chance!
Currents continuously moving, always fast.

The skip of the pebbles,
From a careless throwing hand,
Add to the impetus of the tumult's command.
Higher the tide, raising up at a constant,
Almost forever on the rise.

Is this the sea, of which I speak,
Billowing forever in an uproar?
Or perhaps the circumstance of life,
Mimicking this stormy crescendo?

Delsia Marie Hall