the wave

the smallest details ride on the surf of the roughest waves. no beginning. no end. only when you are in the wave do you feel the rain, the rush. and within an instant you are standing on the shore watching that one perfect wave dance into a ripple and disappear. it is then that you understand the dawn and the darkness of your fears. it is then that all you've been carrying with you becomes a part of what you have silently asked others to carry. and the pain of knowing summons the thunder and the pain of listening summons the winds. now you're standing on the shore in front of an angry sea. and that one ripple that once pulled away from you has grown into a wave now crashing into everything. before the impact, I ask "what have done with my life? how will I be remembered? what have I given and have asked nothing in return?"