A fortune teller, a bounty hunter. Always looking, always anticipating, trying to predict.
A wave is something already begun but yet to come. Search the horizon. Will it be mine? It could be mine, I want it, I need it. A moment from time rolling towards the future, to its end, to its conclusion. Sometimes shyly, almost unseen. Sometimes ominous, dark and powerful.
Can I be where it reveals itself, can I be there? Over there. Yes, this could be it. I've waited all my life it seems for this. The meeting of moments. The coming together, the birth or maybe a death. Not birth for the wave, for it was born long ago. So, a new birth for me whilst I hitch a ride on the back of death, ride the death throes of the wave.
I join the wave. The past and the future become the present. The mental and the physical are dancing in liquid. A birth, a life, a death. And I want to do it all again, and again, and again for ever.