I Am The Wave Poem by Don Winslow

The ripple swells, a wave is building.
I wait, standing in the warm ocean.
I feel the energy nearing me— growing, bulging

As the crest reaches for the sky, it is judgment time
Will it be a smooth ride or a tumbler, kitten or killer,
The choice must be made—do I stay or do I go?

Now is the time, the choice is made!
Push off with the toe, one pulling arm swing is enough
I am in the wave, I am on the wave, I AM THE WAVE!

As I’m carried along, I rise to the top of the curl
Looking down at the world, I am the King of the moment
Like a baby’s gurgling giggle of joy, I scream out with delight

This wave face is a sliding board without a board,
It’s a roller coaster without a track
I am a skater on iceless ice, I am Jesus walking on the Lake.

Arms back, hugging my body,
Head up to survey my domain
I slide, I glide, I ride down this slippery slope

Wearing water bubbles on my lips,
Hearing the hiss of the foam go past my ear,
I reach bottom, level out onto a flat blue plane.

Like a naked-to-the-waist figurehead
On the bowsprit of an amorphous Barque
I lead the way to it’s water’s-edge port.

The shore is coming near, time to make a docking.
Sliding in smoothly, coming up out of the water,
Onto the wet, smooth, rounded-grain sand.

Resting there is so, so sweet!

Will I ever ride this ride again?
It’s not important, I don’t need to, I’ll remember!
You see the wave is me, I AM THE WAVE!

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I’ve been body surfing since I was about 16, taught by a returning Marine who served in Hawaii. It has frustrated me not to be able to adequately explain the thrill of riding waves. Poetry gave me the tools to make an attempt at a description of the sensation.