Fishy colors, trippy pattern, new skin, same goddess dubbed hippie

My wetsuit warms me, colors me, and delights me while a bait ball swarms below me

My board; my connection to her, to him, to them each a reflection

All brothers and sisters continuing traditions reserved for royals and shaman, being observed by shore

Punished, saved, caressed I belong to sea, my life enslaved to waves

She gives life and takes it, merciful and menacing among the breaks

Commander of flight to shore, foam dances upon my board

Friend and foe, near twins glide below

The old, the wise, the armored; slow in the knowledge he has time

Rich green in kelp, auburn in crabs, marbled drab clams

This world lost and forgotten by all but us; We The Surfers.