My Morning Swim
Adapting to the elements.
Some changes in the weather
Happens in a subtle way
Waves weave along the seashore
And evaporate to spray.
Some tumble some are steep
Others wash over my head
I bob and weave and take a breath
As some curl and splash instead.
I soak the sea up like a sponge
When on my morning swim
There’s a parallel perception
Each wave another whim.
Adaptation is a measure
I call on constantly
To move just like the ocean
And attune instantly.
Swimming is a rhythm
A horizontal dance
Massaging of the waters
In a metaphoric trance.
I swim my way to liberty
A clearing of the mind
Like a ritual washing
And leave the grime behind.
It’s like a new beginning
The way I start my day
Adapting to the elements
When I go out to play.
©
David Rudder
2022
Thanks for reading.