purevolume™

The Young Sea's Wave

Posted March 11, 2008

The purest wave flows beyond the sea. Snow capped as a moutian, it's grandeur is seen by all who pass by. On lookers gaze at it's beauty, at it's amazing form. It cannot be stopped by any act of man. Quiet, the water movies in. A seagull calls, a fish jumps. A perfect arch. A moment of intensity. And then the moment is over. The not so young wave begins to fall. Spiraling toward a predictable end. The sheer mass of the uncontainable force rushing down is overwhelming. Water reaches up for the mountain but it is no more. The crashing wave cries out in desperation seeking it's former being. Spiraling thought droplet of confusion, the wave has aged. The illusion is over.