The Ocean

Staring out at the sea during a hurricane, the angry waves pulling out what feels miles away from me, and chasing back to frisk around my feet, I can understand the advent of fantastic mythology. The sea foam shudders in the cool wind as a salt driven rain pelts its face. The army of jellyfish displaced on the shore, clear and firm, is barely visible but very tactile. The waves rise and peak, forming green and white tunnels, lucent like glass against the churning clouds. Looking at all these things, unable to find words, I understand how four thousand years ago, the only possible explanation for the unadulterated beauty before me could have been celestial. I walk through the foam, Venus gracing my mind.