Catharsis
Catharsis
Written by Susan Noyes Anderson on July 2, 2009.
What is this thing that draws me to the sea?
What passion rises with each white-capped swell
to churn upon a watery carousel
and break in frothy secrets, spilling free?
The foaming, reckless water quiets me
in darkly hidden places, guarded well,
probing the inner reaches of a shell
whose pink walls glow with bright intensity.
I love this ocean pounding on the shore,
untamed and unashamed in all its might;
It rolls and crests and dives and rolls some more,
unbound by man and law and grief and fright.
The sea engulfs me, draws my answering roar,
sends waves of darkness crashing into light.
Written by Susan Noyes Anderson on July 2, 2009.
What is this thing that draws me to the sea?
What passion rises with each white-capped swell
to churn upon a watery carousel
and break in frothy secrets, spilling free?
The foaming, reckless water quiets me
in darkly hidden places, guarded well,
probing the inner reaches of a shell
whose pink walls glow with bright intensity.
I love this ocean pounding on the shore,
untamed and unashamed in all its might;
It rolls and crests and dives and rolls some more,

The sea engulfs me, draws my answering roar,
sends waves of darkness crashing into light.
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