Within an hour she manifests in twain.
By sunset, she is indescribable, uncapturable, unparalleled beauty.
Painted in hues only conceivable by the eyes,
and unable to be imitated by the hands.
All we can do is create facsimiles of her glory, the sun setting along her horizon.
In her, we see the awesomeness of G-d Hands, the boldness of His works,
the ultimate power of Creation.
As the sun’s rays bounce on our skin, we stare off into her distances and see
blues of every palette; our dyes could never begin to reflect this spectrum.
We hear the waves crashing, the tide ebbing and flowing, the power of the sea unbound.
Magnificence in reality, divinity captured in a moment.
The sun’s setting fills our bosoms with awe.
By night, she becomes an entirely different entity.
Gone is light’s warmth, gone is the pomp of the sunset, gone is the majesty.
All that is left is the darkness and the feeling of endless space;
and the sound, the sound and the feeling of the ocean’s endless depth.
You can stare into the void, never seeing the horizon, but feel the strength surrounding you.
It is not magnificent, it is humbling. It is calm in it’s power, but is unending.
This is the place where nightmares come from,
the unknowable mere feet below the surface.
Will something peer back at you from the pale, or will the emptiness
swallow you whole?
The sea is both beautiful and mysterious,
both life-giving and life-taking,
both magnificent and dreadful.
She is our eternal mother, and she always calls out to us through the waves.
We cannot help but stare and hope to see something on her horizon,
but what it brings we shall never know.
