RoseAnn V. Shawiak Surfing Poems

Searching the world over, looking for love somewhere in this
universe, hopefully close to me somewhere.

Taking steps carefully into waves of ocean tides, placing my
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Traveling on edges of yesterday's playgrounds when young.
Surfing pretend waves, sliding down the slide into an
ocean of sharks.
Only to be the best surfer on the waves as a game of
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Robotically moving about, thinking slowing down to inter
itself within, on an aging coastline.
Surfing alongside death, keeping a watchful eye on waves
of it's demise in a timely manner.
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Sensing moods of relaxation stirring within, taking
pleasure in feelings entering my being.
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Different types and varieties of music are lifting spirits
into tides of oceanic waves, crashing right this moment.

Following beats rhythmically, taking steps needed to sit
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Time surfs forward always pushing us beyond each day,
wondering why we put up with it.
Salvaging each and every minute, playing it to utmost
capacity, throwing ourselves into work, play, quiet
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Surfing musical realms on ocean tides, reliving youth and
it's vibrant textures of the mind.

Climbing mountains and spiraling down into tunnels of the
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Rushing into signature rhythms of this mind, taking
up their chords, playing them merrily into intellect,
loving the feelings they are bringing with them.
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Tomes of history calling names of enrollees as they depart from
earthly lives with no voice left to speak what is in their hearts.
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Moving quickly and intensely into notions of rhythms,
surfing upon measures filled with rapid tempos and
colors bursting silently from within them.
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Living in a valley of tears formed by the grief of loss
throughout life.

Riding the surf of sorrow into darkened spheres filled
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Shadows of your smile now shining down, thoughtful and serious, holding onto an energy of what may be in the future.

It has now been drowned out for tides are surfing beyond either of us, having to find our way alone for there are no more thoughts of love happening, nothing more to give.
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Picking up tempos as I go forth into a wild side of life,
surfing on rhythms through measures of time.

Finding patterns being elicited faster than usual through
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