Who Are You?

Your swells crash against the metal hull

I sit behind glass a good 30 feet above your surface

Yet the spray you spit as you crash

Causes white out visibility at my window

I wonder, what angered you

Where did your peaceful, serene blue go to?

You rant and rave

Seemingly pulling power up from 3,000 feet below

Your surface raises into mountains of deepest gray

Growing higher and higher

Until the rounded tops crest and roll forward

With furies of foam rushing forward.

Is it anger or merely strength

That pierces my being 

Igniting fear

Is power always something to be feared?

The raging waters speak to me of violence

With their endless pounding, crashing and exploding 

Spraying onto verandahs decks above.

Yet, when your fury meets resistance

There are glimmers of beautiful blue

Peaking out amid the foam and spray

Your surface is a sea of chaos

But deep within you

There exist delicate creatures

Swimming undisturbed

So, ocean, who then are you?

A furious power attempting to eject all on your surface

A gentle, nurturing home

Or, maybe, merely a living body

Existing as best able

Responding to atmospheric circumstances

With no intent for harm?

We, after all, are merely guests 

So, though your lunging and mountainous rolls

Play with my heart, disturb my equilibrium

And destroy my peace

I must remember

I am a guest 

My job is to learn to roll with you

Not to question your inherent nature.