50 pesos
equals
5 dollars
equals
1 hour of freedom
from the mess in my head
how did they know
that yellow was my color?
so familiar
the sandy wax
even has a line on the nose
my trim line
to keep an even keel
and proper balance
but forward progress
seems a thing of the past
afraid to go out
afraid to stay in
weary of the effort of life
but pregretful
of missing such beautiful olas
dinero down
I carry my magic carpet
leash it to my leg
my body remembers all of this
…and I’m sliding through liquid
one taste of salt
and I’m in Costa Rica, Charleston,
New York, SoCal, Baja
I’m everywhere
world-weary, bathed in tears
snap back, look around
I am just here
in this moment
in this warmth
surrounded
floating
competing for waves
is like a blender in a backpack
so I just sit
to feel the rhythm
to soak it in, to soak in it
to wait
for fate or benevolence or randomness
or time itself
to give me a lift
to move me forward
enough experience
that people follow me around
they don’t know
that I don’t know what I’m doing
I’m clueless
completely clueless
Posted in: surfing
You are so damn clued in Mike, this makes me ache. I have not been out for a couple of years now, waiting for the hand to be done. I can’t wait!
good words, hombre!
** snaps ** snaps**