There’s something wild that wanders near the tide,
not sleek or shy, but stubborn, salt, and free,
a beach-born beast with weather in its hide
and mischief in its snout’s philosophy.
It doesn’t care for manners, maps, or rules,
it roots through dunes like treasure can be found,
it laughs at fences, whistles, signs, and schools,
and crowns itself the mayor of this ground.
Its footprints write a story in the sand,
a muddy little anthem: I exist,
and even seagulls seem to understand
the way it lives by instinct, not by list.
So here’s my thought, as waves keep rolling in…
be brave as pigs, and let your wild begin. 🐗🌊✨