Life is a wave.

Its transient might

Crests, tumbling, falling

Giving up their breaths

In certainty of being.

Shattering in sparkles

Of sun's warming light.

It is its nature to recede

But waiting quietly poised

To rise,

Depths falling into ignominy

The troughs, unknowingly,

Unfailingly, unwittingly,

The cause, the vehicle

For ascension to glory

Of the surging wave,

Its might unsheathed

Its destiny to be

Me.

© Manic Sylph 2015