The waves of a hesitant lover

How does iron reconcile itself with fire? 
Mother asks me about power and I think of roaring waves 
I too want to brush shoulders with the fence,
have my name encrusted in the concrete  

My present is thirteen blocks away 
and Lagos lulls around me as the ocean 
envelopes the rocks in a frothy kiss
My past is the white bungalow bopping her asphalt head in the flood,
she is waist deep and out of her mouth rolls
childhood memories falling into the water's swollen belly

I cannot reconcile myself with her ruthlessness recklessness

Everyone I know tells me that she is beauty
I say she is war, a brimming pot,
a mountain drifting past the edges of the earth
Everyone I know says the ocean is beauty  
I say golden tears of a wrung out sky
A hand with strength to heal and harm
Everyone I know tells me the ocean is beautiful 
I say she is art - in all its radiance and rage