“In order to scratch the surface, you must first find the surface, then forge the tool to scratch it.”
~J. Parker Bench
Here, I plan to go deep into the rabbit-hole. Follow if you can.
Not much thought is ever given to riding the wave. The wave is metaphor. Though it can be a wave of water, it also can be anything. Waves are pushed by inertia; the source is often unknown and hardly realized. This is a sphere of human form; the sphere of emotion.
The broken heart knows the wave; its crash, the undertow and riptide. The bright heart knows the wave, its build and apex; its roll to crest and its return. Depression knows the deep; the drowning of spirit. Heartache knocks on the door of the abyss; the trench where alien creatures dwell. Bliss knows the gull; how it glides atop the water; when it plucks fish from the sea, and when it rests sleepily on the shore.
Emotions are like the tide. These intangible elements ebb and flow in sweet unison with unknown forces, bearing their naked bodies and hiding the eyes. These are feelings that can cloud the sharpest mind and reconcile the ignorant. Through joy and sadness we remain, within the jaws of horror and aloft the lips of serenity. The spirit moves to the mood of the emotional tidal rhythm.
Once i saw myself ripping the veins from the world, cutting the cords of another man’s life. My sharp blade shimmered under a moon of anger and deceit. I’ve held this blade before, it was not foreign to me. Once more, I held within myself the power to do the world in, to commit the gravest of crimes. In only a few hymns of realizing my wrong, I put down my sword. I vowed to never wield it again.
When I found that my wife was no longer mine, I cursed the world. I swore revenge. I would have burned a thousand cities and ten thousand men if I could. Anger is powerful. But then I realized how the fool plays his hand. He pretends to not show emotion, through thick dark glasses he plots his move, only to be outwitted by a man with soft eyes, who stares through him. A whisper of a friend was all I needed; the sound of crashing waves making sweet music along the shoreline; speaking truth and honesty.
The sphere of emotion is like the water. It crashes and it rolls. It can become like a mirror or ripple in unison with the wind. Step back when the winds become fierce, or you will become one with the muck. Remember the tide. Remember your soul when you find yourself under the surface, gasping for breath. Look only to the light to guide you up from the abyss.
I will never again pick up the sword. I had my time with it. I was trained in the art of war, but war I will not ever again wage. The tide is stronger than I… But, I am the tide.