Write Through Doors

Like children, waves start out from nothing, looking clean and harmless. Before your eyes they grow taller.  The smooth wave crests.

Like a teenager denied, a  foaming waterfall erupts. It hits the surface–strong, turbulent and angry.

But sooner than you think, the ripples of the wave spread.   Now it looks like short white fountains: young adulthood, spouting out.

Bubbling fountains shrink, and the surface of the wave flattens. A white boarder of foam is all that remains. The wave climbs bravely onto the sand as far as it can, but the body of the wave that follows can hold on no more. As gentle and slow as a lullaby, the wave retreats slightly, then disappears as it sinks down into the sand.

But wait, what’s happening?

Here comes a new wave:  brief, salty, and filled with life.