the sea was angry-
rolling waves that crashed on the shore,
threatening to take me under,
tossing me about with no effort,
eroding the sand beneath my feet
as i attempted to stand against the oncoming water,
so that all i could do was ride the crest
as it bore me closer to the shore.

and yet, it was safe,
the undertow and riptide were as nothing
to the onslaught of white-tipped waves,
pushing me closer to the land,
so that the treacherous parts of the water
could not take me -
a dangerous protector that could choose
to play with me or destroy me,
and i was powerless to do anything
but ride the waves and trust in the angry sea.