Without Purpose.....

 Without Purpose

There is no dust on ocean surf

sun glint sparkling on watery hills

reveal embodied energy waiting to hurt

those riding folding curls never still

When he was a younger man

lacking purpose and living day to day

he played and loved on golden sand

gliding on waves by the boardwalk quay

Windswept foam ripped from waves curly

flew from misty emerald swells

that cooled his youthful frame on mornings early

as he rode fluid energy fast and well

Sunbeams stabbing down from clear skies

were quickly swallowed by grey blue fissures

that broke over hidden sand bars

and he became one with the collapsing structure

The actuality of his movements impossible

took him to extremes in the sea

when his body was most supple

and his brain concocted high-minded poetry

He was at peace in the surfs' bridging sounds

that soothed his life in the crashing waters

and when no one was around

alone never felt any better

Contentment resided in sunny morns

the fruits of existence hung low

easily picked and enjoyed during the storm

even as there was no purpose to show

Yes, there is no dirt in soothing surf

only salty mist on watery hills

that sting the eye and cause some hurt

'Tis a small price to pay for some therapeutic chill