34th Street

it was 2 weeks ago. my knee injury plagues me. it was after the sun was showing it's face over the hills. it was after my return from mexico. it was 34th street. it was glassy. it was warm. it was too warm for my wetsuit. i didn't care. it was perfection. it was a saturday morning and i didn't have to work. there were 8 people trying for the wave. i didn't care. i was in the right spot. i had the drive. i went for it. i caught the wave backside. i held my board and weaved it through 4 kooks staring at me wondering how they were going to avoid me. i released directly in the pocket. i thrusted a bottom turn. backed up to the top. down to the bottom. i pushed up to the top. glassy. down to the bottom. i felt the salt on my hand. it splashes on my arm. it splashes in my face. i taste the ocean. i feel the ocean. i feel the power. it forces me to the top. i thrust to the bottom. i aim for the lip. it flares it's fury against my ride. i push it down. it begins to give in. i feel the momentum slow. i stand up. i realize it is ending. i arch back. a back flip comes to mind and i go for it with all i have. i hit the water on my heels and sink happily. it was done. it was my wave. it was my life. it was me.

i am one

i am free.

i will always remember.

i close my eyes.

it is in me.

always.