This Wave

This is a poem about marriage. I wrote it just over a year ago, on my honeymoon. Happy to say that after these mere few months that honestly have contained both highest highs and hardest lows, I absolutely agree with every singles word my loved up little brain espoused then. Still love riding this wave. Always will.

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So here we are

On the cusp of a livelong-lasting ramble, the crest of a new wave,

Of tidal proportions at first glance distorting the calm unmoved everything of everyday, life

But this any day is, right

Though it rushes and crushes through pain-seared blushes of frustrated disappointment at over-anticipation and the slightly soured ointment of excessive expectations

And all the while disturbs the so-called ‘peace’ of the world it leaves behind, all washed up on the shore

It does so so disruptively but not destructively and vitally as it spiralingly alters all proceedings, never does a falter it ever cause,

As it draws further forth beatings as it claws at wild thoughts of retreating,

For in fact, it is COMPLETING… Tis the freedom one yearns and burns always for

This new Wave,

More than a mere manual marked ‘behave’

More than a mad romantic amble through a few faddish fears and futile gambles a sense of reckless excitement to save

More far more, so  much more than a mighty shackle upon the fourth left finger left to long-time lovelessly linger in heavy cold weight, and endlessly enslave

No no, No not this wave

This one it leads after cautious calculation and consultation of more than worldly wisdom and beyond wordy non-decision to a pinpoint precision leap from out of the all too comfy, cozy cave

This Wave,

An opportunity beyond all others to really truly take

A surge of sheer power yet with such subtlety and intricate caveats abundant, all churlish childish notions and unrealistic fascinating fantasies unapologetically now to shake

And in eventual inevitability also to gloriously break

This Wave, on the crest of which we now ride,

Which flows continuing from high tide,

To the midst of the mightily mightless doldrums in the lowest ebb, and still ceases not, to flow,

Whether a huge tsunami-enduced mass or at times a tiny trickle simply managing, just hanging in when blocked by would be dams on all sides trying to stem it, still This Wave continues so…

Here in this moment as the drought of creativity does warmly, welcomingly end

So coinciding with the ecstacy of This Wave’s beginning, and the wild wind blows

With one week on the clock of freedom that will tick in time with ours both my friend

So now I celebrate the movement of this wave, and sing in sweet unmatched security my love ‘Bon Voyage… Unsteady as she goes’.