Tidal Wave

The snow falls gently outside of the wooden window.
The flakes fall peacefully, their geometry differing with each blink of my eyes.
They have traveled farther than the lioness has traveled to find her young cubs food on a dying plain.
In the wake of destruction, the water rises up into the air and is gently pushed east, guided by the need for peace.
From the distant view of treetops in forests far away, the molecules remember a different life.
Part of something unexplainable, uncontrolled, uninhibited.
The momentum building, the land fearful of it’s final resting place, and all the while, the violence succumbed to the quiet solace of the ocean waves surrounding it.
Crashing onto the shore, the unity is broken.
Some return to the sea, some choose to remain on land, and some ascend into the sky. 
The damage has been done.
The silence is deafening and the time has come to move on.
But despite the beckoning of the sea, their destiny is to go forward, spiral, change, manifest, and land gently outside my window pane.
So that I may understand the tidal wave crashing to shore. 


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