Makes the motion of my life fall into perspective
Makes me realize I’m as still as these waves are
Moving, creating a fuss, spewing foam only because
The center is still.
To keep the center still, there needs to be waves.
There needs to be spewing.
The waves are just a fuss.
That nullify my fuss.
The waves bring me to its centre.
To my centre.
The waves confess to how it’s making up a noise.
It doesn’t create a noise for identity.
It creates a noise to keep itself beautifully calm.