Beyond the horizon
what the eyes don’t see
is some inner turmoil
deteriorating in the sea
The waves crash down
an education in life
churning violently
cutting like a knife
Each wave
brings in new sand
shells scattered everywhere
decorating the land
Beauty in the destruction
time to rebuild
the sand is a canvas
clay for the skilled
New life abound
in the shells and sand
laughter in building
jellyfish on the land
It comes again
the roaring of the waves
beauty in the turmoil
satisfying the excitement craved
Meditation over
walking in the wind
enjoying the journey
praying it will never end
copyright 2021 Debbie Pierce
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Piper's Adventures 
My Beloved Sandra’s far more of an ocean/wind/surf lover than I, who prefers to sit here on my deck in my mountains, listening to the wind through trees, which I find to be far more musical and mesmerizing than the surf (which only sounds like static to me). But I will admit to, once or maybe twice per year, stretching out on sun-heated sand, as long as I have plenty of sunscreen slathered on.
But I digress, let just compliment you on this wonderful poem. Well done!
Thank you. There is something magical about the mountains. The clouds producing the illusion of smoke and the beautiful sound of the wind creating music through the trees. My late husband and I would take trips to the mountains to enjoy all the beauty. Our favorite place however was a small beach town filled with art and festivals. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day.
This is lovely!
Thank you.
You are welcome.