I am nearly blinded by the bluest ocean imaginable,
mesmerized by the constant waves, powerful blows,
one after another, crashing hard against the ancient
a’a lava, massive jagged rock flows arrested at the edge,
worn perhaps a half inch more than the last time I stood here
at Keʻanae, only eight or nine years old then, now recalling
with each roll and explosion in the air, my eyes
following the reaching spray upward, picturing
my father, young and strong, casting his line,
I mine, side by side in the wind, waiting, watching
for the big one to strike, the one he would always fight
and land, mine the lucky one that might get away,
those waves erupting skyward, so soars my soul,
my heart now and forever following after him.
* * * * *
Today’s word is
young
Use it to inspire a piece of writing and then post your piece below as a comment. I would love to read what you write : )
