I Wish I Was As Beautiful As The Ocean

On a rocky cliff 

where the grass sways in the wind 

and the sky never seems to end, 

there lies a silent house  

where a silent woman lives. 

She does not need to speak; 

the ocean does all the talking. 

Every morning she wakes 

with messy hair and cup of steaming tea in hand 

and she says good morning to the world, 

to her world.  

Sometimes it almost seems 

as if the ocean reflects her emotions,  

today dark and stormy 

as if trouble has begun to brew. 

But as she looks longingly at the green-blue grey water 

the woman thinks to herself,  

I wish I was as beautiful as the ocean, 

on the outside loud and chaotic, 

crashing and falling, booming and whooshing.  

What she does not seem to realize 

is how it is merely a facade.  

Underneath the surface

you will find it to be quiet and peaceful, 

only a buzz

as the world is drowned out around you.

However,  

on the rocky cliff 

where the grass sways in the wind

and the sky never seems to end, 

the silent woman stands by the silent house.  

She does not seem to notice 

how the green-blue-grey water stares longingly back at her. 

The ocean thinks to herself, 

I wish I was as beautiful as her,  

So quiet and peaceful. 

What the ocean does not realize 

is how it is merely a facade. 

Underneath the surface 

you will find it to be loud and chaotic,  

crashing and falling, booming and whooshing.

And it was in this moment 

the ocean realized 

maybe they were not so different after all.