The water waves were rockier than usual last night, briskly walking but not on water, giving me a reason to hate him, betrayed by a landsman, splashed in the face, foaming at the mouth, frothiness with each successive water wave, like armies, schools of sharks all came to fight for me.
Angels in the night, dressed in all white, they believed my story, knew my hardships, were inside the belly of a whale with me and Jonah, thrown ashore to stay alive despite all odds that were against me.
Wondering why the mad pirate cannot trust me, how badly he was hurt, how he wants to hurt us back, how the water waves are dissolving his hatred and mistrust, how his beard is freezing in the night, how he is absorbed in his own folly, how he aches, how he did not get his way, how he is helpless in his fight against good, how good prevails, like a tidal wave to give water to the thirsty, to drown out his falsehoods, to send me afloat atop like a surfer, enjoying the beaches day after day, in darkness and in light, in summer and in winter.
Water for my safety, water for my upward climb, water to drown out he who tries to drown me.
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