By James Strauss

A surfer through life waits and seeks,
Something afar for anything better,
Through the flowing troughs and peaks,
Tired of living this life not to the letter.

Maybe the wind, surf and the sea,
Will break with a crest of true meaning,
Life’s standing straight from them to me,
My own like that tower known for its leaning.

They say those that care I’m in depression,
But they live in truth without a clue,
Not knowing the dark side is my one expression,
As the wave of the day sweeps up and it is blue.

The brutal crush of the tons of sea drift,
Breaks my body from that of my mind,
As I lay in a state that no one can lift,
Thoughts but no hope gone as if it’s a gift.

Pulled from above by the power of God,
A hand then a face but who can it be?
It’s a man with a smile and barely a nod,
An arm made of oak although not of a tree.

Pulled from the surf its waves filled with rage,
My life dragged ashore my body a mess.
Laying on dry sand having to turn another page,
In the book where it’s real not some sort of test.

I staggered on home to those of my love,
My thoughts of myself not nearly so nice.
Over the falls but saved from above,
To live and do better no matter the price.