Where the Waves Break

There is a fine edge, where the waves break, between the crashing water and weathered stones, where something soft takes hold. Formless like the water, persistent as the sand. It is beautiful. It is resilience. It is a feeling of awestruck wonder. That this space exists in the harshness that surrounds it. It is in this space that I find my friends. My chosen family. Where I take solace in knowing that I shall persevere and see tomorrow. The waves crash. The rocks hold firm. But in the middle I find softness. Tenderness. The gentle rocking of a cradle.