Relentless Power

Pardon if I sound a bit enraptured, maybe no…

I am enraptured, no apology is necessary.

I have spent a number of days by the sea…

The Gulf of Mexico, this winsome body of water it is…

It reminds me again of how we much too easily call things


Seven-tenths, 70 percent, the majority of the surface of the planet is


Though there is more water here on this planet than almost anything else

We long to be near it, on it, by it…

My ears, my mind, my heart, my soul will mourn for this lovely sound

Of waves crashing, relentlessly, continuously, persistently upon the shore

When I hear it no more.

When I am not near it, when it still crashes here

And I am not, it will go on.

Not needing me; yet it has fueled me.

For the eons and eons that this has played out,

And every moment that I am here, I watch, I listen, I ponder, I absorb

That sound, and it goes on, and on…

It will without me, it has forever.

I love that I am a small insignificant blip of my own noise beside this behemoth…

The sea has been saying the same thing, over and over and over…

Here I come, I am here, here I go again.

The sound is endless, so is the horizon.

Every day the sunrises and paints new colors…

Every day the sun blasts the ceaseless waves with shimmering light

And as the sun sets we know, it will be back tomorrow…

Watching over the waves, the life, the water, the endless songs of sound, and power,



Tom Dietzler
Tom Dietzler
Lifelong, proud somewhat strident Wisconsinite, I love my state and love to sing its praises. A bon vivant and raconteur, lover of history, literature and good conversations. Laughter and music are salves that I frequently am applying to my soul. I have spent time (too much) in manufacturing and printing and have found great joy in my current position as director of operations at a large church in the same area where I grew up. Husband to Rhonda and father of two adult children Melanie and Zack, I’m the constant companion of my five-year-old Lab, Oliver, who is my muse to a lot of my stories. I’m a fan of deep conversation and my interests are in learning and gaining wisdom, so in the last few years I have become and less politically vocal, and hopefully more respectful and open-minded. Rhonda and I sold our home in 2018, bought a condo and have traveled a bit more, golfed a bit more and are enjoying life a bit more. If you take the time to get to know me, prepare yourself for an invite to the 30th state to join the union, a gem located in the upper Midwest, full of beautiful scenery formed by the glaciers, with lots of lakes and trees and gorgeous scenery, and the nicest people that you’d ever want to meet.

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    • I love that you love it, Yvonne… it was something that wrote itself. After spending so much time near the Gulf, it was bound to well up inside me and need to be released in some form. This is what happened… the universe is always talking – when we stop to listen, it’s amazing what we learn.

  1. Fun fact: I hate the water (I have the disposition of an average American house cat, after all). But after reading this, I long to sit by the water (at a safe distance, of course), and watch the sun rise, swell, swelter, and fall again on the brilliant sheen of the water that makes up so much of Life on earth. You’re a poet, Tom!

    • My wife is a farm girl, and no fan of water either. But she is very much a fan of being near it – and she loves to walk beside it. She is not big on being on the water – we went sailing while we were in Florida and it took a couple Dramamines and was zonked out all afternoon after that. She has no interest in being in it, at all… but in the proximity, seeing, hearing and being near it, she has become a huge fan. It is mesmerizing, calming and soothing. You might as well make peace with something that is so much a part of our existence. Thanks so much for your input, I am so glad that you liked it, even with some of your known aversions.

    • With this kind of poetry, I’d even dip a toe into some water!

      Very good point about making peace with something that is so much a part of our existence — as I get older, I find myself being less adversarial and more at peace (which is ironically what the ocean waves lapping at the shore can create!).

      Brilliant prose, as I so enjoy all of your articles!

  2. Beautiful, Tom. One of the reasons I love the sea – the pounding surf – is that it happens totally independent of us. We are not masters of everything, although we often treat the water like we are. Instead of just being with it, we try to rise above it. Instead of loving it for its mystery, we sully it. Shame on us.

    • Hey Jeff – the sea doesn’t need any of us, it keeps rolling and crashing and being, as it has for time immemorial. The ocean is, and it is a lovely and awesome thing to behold. Thank you for contribution, as always.

    • And Kimberly, to sit beside you in any circumstance would be a breathless, winsome and awesome opportunity. I treasure your lovely contribution to this and every conversation. Thank you!