"Anger will kill a fool."
- Job 5:2
Ferocious roaring sea water waves, crashing into rocks on a sandy shore wearing down the crags smoothing them, cushiony chairs to sit on these rocks becoming stone. An angry sea, one of fierce argument, adversity, waves like warriors, once was a splitting sea when each wave flew up forming a wall, swiftly, allowing us to pass between them unharmed, to drown the Egyptians as they were on the offense, to kill, to bring the Hebrews to freedom to the Promised Land. Each Egyptian warrior drowned in the caving in of the walls of the great green sea. An angry sea that killed them as fools.
Hollering, yelling, screaming, fighting, charging head on like a bull after a red cape, the heaving of one's chest full force frontal into a fight, slashing swinging swords, splitting narrow arrows from bending bows, intensely targeting another as an opposition, an apparent opponent.
Challenging, turning a discussion into a debate, throwing sticks and stones to hit a tense target, kicking jumping up and down, shifting and shouting and banging one's fists wildly against a wall, pounding against a table, unstable.
Glaring staring eyes meeting the eyes of another not giving up, zeroing in on the enemy, making a staunch statement, trying to win by causing him to lose, gambling but without luck.
But, so they say "Anger will kill a fool."
Slowing down one's heartbeat, walking the other way, turning around giving him your back, not responding to the challenge, holding your sense of peace deeply within yourself, averting your eyes looking down looking away.
Not yelling back, bridling your mouth, holding your arms from taking a swing, not forcing yourself, saying nothing in return, holding your own, whispering an internal mantra, skipping freely away happily, merrily.
Not getting entangled. Forgiving and forgetting. Not holding a grudge, feeling the tension in your chest escaping, breathing hot air out, diffusing, being a large full tight balloon losing air in a fizzle, fists unwinding, hands flowing freely to one's side.
Giving him the benefit of the doubt. One less enemy, one less battle, removing your suite of amour, hitting and bouncing off your shield.
Now putting your sword back in its sheathe.
Not angered, not killed, not a fool. Won a fight because it was never fought.
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