I stand there on a ledge,
With a 200ft. chasm lying beneath me,
Waiting for it.
Beneath me,
The seagulls cry, and scream,
Diving and soaring,
Trying to find shelter,
Waiting for it.
Shoals of fish scatter and plunge into crevices,
Even the protection of the water
Is nothing compared to its' energy.
They're waiting for it.
The fishing boats,
Like their prey,
Scatter in all directions,
Making pathetic attempts to reach safety,
Where they hope to be ,
While waiting for it.
Even the whales,
Superior in their immense bulk,
Dive deep into the darkness,
Where they too wait,
In anticipation for the rush hour.
Many a crab,
Moves its hefty frame into the sand,
'Safe' from the rush,
Where they wait in peace.
Then, 'it' arrives.
A swirling mass of turbulence,
Churning and frothing the sea into a milkshake.
It rushes through the boats,
Making them rock to and fro like an upside-down beetle,
Twirling them around, like ice skaters on a rink.
It washes the fish apon the rocks,
It knocks the seagulls for six,
Twirling their helpless bodies round, and round, and round, and round.
Then, it hits me.
I stand there, arms outstretched,
Challenging the immense energy,
Greeting it with a warm hug.
I feel the pure adrenalin rush through my blood,
As its' power penetrates my skin.
It fills me up,
Makes me high as a kite.
I yell,
Challenge it,
Ask for a second helping,
Of the wind that forever tempts me,
The wind that makes me crave for more.