"Riding the Crest of Infinity": two surf-inspired poems by Andrew Island | Photo: Nohassi/Creative Commons

Lean back and take a deep breath. It's time for an arty wave-riding moment, courtesy of Andrew Island's ethereal surf poetry.

The ocean, with its vast expanse of water, is a thing of beauty and wonder. For surfers, it is a place of boundless passion and unbridled thrill.

They are drawn to the ocean's waves like moths to a flame, seeking the rush of adrenaline and the euphoria that comes from riding the swells.

To a surfer, the ocean is not just a vast body of water but a living, breathing entity with its own tempo and structure.

They learn to read the ocean's moods and movements, understanding that the same wave can be both a friend and a foe.

They know that the winds, blowing over the surface of the water, can create ripples or massive swells and that the faster the wind blows, the bigger the waves will grow.

And yet, even as they respect the ocean's power, surfers are not afraid to challenge it.

They seek out the most dramatic and challenging waves, the ones that crash against rocky cliffs or are created by powerful storms.

They ride these waves with grace and skill, defying the odds as they soar above the water.

But for surfers, the ocean is not just about the thrill of the ride. It is also about a deep connection to the natural world.

They learn about the ocean's ecosystems and become advocates for its preservation. They understand that the ocean is not just a playground but a fragile environment that must be protected.

In the end, it is this passion and connection to the ocean that makes wave riders true ocean literates.

They may not all have degrees in marine biology, but they possess a deep understanding and respect for the ocean that cannot be measured by any academic credentials.

For them, the ocean is not just a source of excitement and pleasure but a way of life.

Here are two poetic tributes to the endless search for the perfect wave and the ocean's most magical creation. Cheers to you, dear surfer.

Surfing: poetry in motion | Photo: Robinson/Creative Commons

"Riding the Swell of Existence" (January 2023)

The surfer rises with the dawn,
A quest in mind, a longing spawned,
To find the wave, the perfect ride,
That calls to him from deep inside.

He paddles out to where the sea,
Is whispered by the mystic breeze,
And sees the swell start to form,
A promise of an epic storm.

He feels the pull of the tide,
And lets his spirit decide,
To follow where the wave may lead,
With every stroke, with every speed.

He finds the peak, the perfect shape,
A symphony of water, light, and cape,
He drops in and becomes one,
With the magic of the ocean,

As the wave starts to build and grow,
He feels a sense of wonder, a sense of flow,
He carves and cuts, he glides and spins,
He feels the power of the wave, the force within.

The wave is his, the ride is pure,
He feels alive, he feels the allure,
Of this dance, this cosmic play,
This mystery of life, in every way.

He feels the wave start to fade,
He knows the ride is almost played,
But in this moment, he is free,
Riding the wave, wild and carefree.

He paddles back to shore,
And feels the ocean's roar,
He knows the wave will come again,
The search, the ride, the endless zen.

For in the ocean, he finds his peace,
A symphony, a never-ending piece,
That connects him to the depths,
Of life and death, the tide he keeps.

He knows the wave, the perfect ride,
Is not a place, it's not a guide,
It's a state of mind, a state of grace,
It's the magic of the ocean, in every place.


"The Ocean's Melodies" (January 2023)

The passion burns within their souls,
A fire that never quite grows old,
For ocean waves that call their name,
And pull them from the earthly game.

They hear the siren song that calls,
And feel the pull that never falls,
A longing for the rolling tide,
And the rush of water as they ride.

With boards beneath their feet,
They're swept away in ecstasy,
As they dance with the sea,
And ride the waves with glee.

The ocean sings a song so sweet,
A symphony that's incomplete,
Without the surfers, who belong,
Riding the waves, a joyful song.

They are one with the sea,
And the waves that set them free,
In the midst of nature's power,
They live in the eternal hour.

Through the crashes and the spray,
They chase the horizon's sway,
For the rush of the ride,
Is where their hearts reside.

For surfers, the ocean's call,
Is a passion that stands tall,
A love for the waves so true,
They live for the ride, the passion new.

And in the end, when all is said,
It's not just the waves they'll have wed,
But the endless horizon and mystery,
Of the ocean's magic and majesty.

Words and Poems by Andrew Island | Surfer, Skateboarder and Author

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