Surfing

Turqouise water, rippled with veins of white

The startling cry of a seagull

Alone in the melancholy mist of the morning

My hands stroke through the water

As my body precariously lays on my board

The freedom out here is magnificent

I drown in it

I chase that feeling always

Everything I do is so I can feel it again

It is my motivation, my freedom, and my sense of self

Surfing.