The Story Of Another Usual Wave.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

you have tested my waters with your dirty feet.
but i thank you just the same, your steps produced
the sound about how deep i could also be.
You do not have to tell me your predicament, your fears
and your sorrows that made you take a dip and with a thought
that i am shallow, you wished that you would have enjoyed it
just like those kids being watched by their caring mothers.
where is your mother? this question hurts you and you wished
that my waters would have drowned you to death.
something of course that i did not wish, because there is still
in you, your face, your body, your sighs, your hair and your
sad eyes, which makes you still one of those whom death could
not justify to the world.

you drowned yourself in your stupidity and the waters of my being
felt the guilt. It had become foul. Some fish died. All left.
The stones are telling stories to the winds that always go for
change and forgetting.
The waves of the sea are furious something that i always tried
to understand when i was first just another kind of empty shell
in the shores of the sands and dead corals.

you died. I had become another kind of wave. I become like
anyone, rushing to the shore, kissing the sands, and then
leave for another losing into the ocean, into the unknown.