Poems from in between

First, that it is like a wave
that rolls across you standing there
and lifts you just a bit,
so that your toes barely touch.
Second, that it rocks outward
and tugs you softly that way, too.

Third, it is like a wave
that cartwheels right over you
and shoves and topples you,
drowning you in its tough muscle,
and you have to sputter for breath.
Fourth, that it can sweep out with such force
that it yanks your legs from under you
and lands you back on sharp pebbles,
and sand sticks to you.

Fifth, it is like a wave
that lifts your whole body so high
that you are swept all the way to kingdom come,
and are lucky to ever get back,
if you ever want to.
Sixth, that it sometimes never comes at all
and you are left standing on the beach
wondering how to get wet.

Seventh, that it is like a wave
that changes and treats you different,
and it is often hard,
with remorse, or cunning, or grief,
or beauty, or wonder, or abandon,
and breaks wildest
when your heart is open and clean,
and you cannot say no.