She’s like the wave that washes my skin.

Come over the tide, over again.

And like the wind that blows and has always been,

Forever in motion-

Always will win.

 

Win she may, but let me explain,

She rides like the river, begging for rain.

Little she knows I never feel pain,

A horse and a saddle, I’m taking the rein,

Just to be closer-

Forever again.

 

And in the winter, folks store their grain,

With no sane man ever looking for rain.

But, in closed crystal droplets I see nothing vain,

I welcome her always-

I may be insane.