Spring has sprung, 

let the rivers run,

Towards the bay, towards the fun,

Towards waters wading everyone.

Upon approach, the sight does stun

As the shallow waters seem over-run.

All seek the tides warmed by the sun,

Yet, in the depths, they’re nearly none…

The water is different out here,

Things are not as they appear,

Thoughts like a straight-jacket

Or so they fear…

While wading in waters unreachable near,

And as it deepens, less is clear.

So they swim for the shallows

where so many steer. 

But once among the populated piers,

things are not as they appear.

Their thoughts like smudges begin to smear,

and the portrait painted presents a sneer,

As the meanings in marking make it clear.

Riptides flood these crowded waters,

Swallowing currents that won’t cohere.

Only the strongest 

Dare commandeer.

Take control for the power,

yet with nowhere to steer–

head straight for others’ waters,

slicing through them as they veer.

Now bogged in the shallow, they’re trapped here.

Things are not as they appear,

The shallow they sought 

is far from sheer.

Clouded with illusions of tides insincere,

to ensure the fear,

that beyond shore break is where rip currents leer.

Unable to watch, refuse to adhere–

They return to the vast where the water isn’t clear.

They trust in the patience needed to pioneer.

So that every shore break, the waters will hear,

reminders they’re not alone, 

Just first to frontier.