So I sat on a bench by the sea,
as the waves roared and danced, rising and falling,
unfazed, like a proud, undefeated champion.
The sea swirled with a fierce strength,
and I watched, my gaze steady,
drawn in by her vast and untamed power.
She noticed my silent stare, caught it,
and we locked eyes,
her loud, crashing look against my quiet one.
The minutes slipped by, slow yet sure,
and still, neither of us gave in.
I saw her growing angry,
her waves colliding like wild creatures,
thrashing in frustration at my quiet challenge.
Her fury was fierce, a storm without end,
pounding and pulsing like thunder,
daring me to flinch,
but I held my gaze, unblinking.
Then, she paused, noticing something in my eyes—
a deep, hollow emptiness,
a silent cry she hadn’t expected.
She saw the weight I carried,
the sorrow hidden behind my gaze,
the unshed tears I’d kept inside,
the unspoken ache,
the feeling of being lost and alone.
And slowly, she softened.
Her waves eased, calming like gentle whispers,
as though reaching out, as though saying,
I see you. I feel what you feel.
The fierce clash turned to gentle caresses,
her anger faded to understanding,
her touch became softer,
a cool breeze brushed against my skin,
wrapping me in a warm embrace,
carrying comfort and quiet hope.
With that breeze, she spoke to me in silence—
telling me, You’ll be alright,
promising me strength,
whispering of peace waiting just ahead.
And I felt the weight lift,
like dark clouds dissolving in the sky,
and my walls crumbled,
letting sorrow flow out in slow, steady drops,
tears tracing paths down my cheeks.
I took a deep breath, full and free,
my heart lighter, my shoulders at ease.
With a soft smile, I thanked her,
a simple nod, a quiet gratitude,
and she replied with a gentle spray,
a final, tender touch on my skin.
I walked away, knowing this memory—
this quiet moment by the sea—
would be with me always, like a friend.