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On Control

We fought so hard Рso desperately 

To gain the reins of the waves.

Grasping at every crest,

Our anxieties to stave.

Yet for all our fevered exertion

Our energies were wasted.

The waves cared not. Control…

Was never to be tasted.

It was painful to acknowledge

The scope of our miscalculation,

But then – surrender. Rest.

And with them, jubilation.

For the waves we feared

Would pull us under

Buoyed us up

And filled us with wonder.

All that we poured

Into inward concerns

Turned outward now,

Our selfishness spurned.

Still we sorrow, and still we grieve;

But no more for imagined power.

Unfettered now and free to claim

That which, by grace, is ours.