I Hear the Roar

Some mornings,
early and quiet,
with the face of the water
smooth and reflective,
I hear the roar.

Over the water,
past the barrier island,
the Gulf rumbles.
The in-land breeze rests, yet
 - something is coming.

When I hear the Gulf of Mexico
speaking up in conversation to
what drives the seas,
I know that
deep within my soul
they affect me.

But under the water
far from the waves
driven by currents,
moved by another
are
creatures
living and oblivious
to the roar.