I shall rest?

I shall rest against the dancing brine,
The moonlight and the winds that chime;
I shall rest against the stars old and new,
That reflect tales false and true.

Nestled deep in the crests of turbulent times,
The heaviness in me melts into waves sublime;
My breath lost while crashing against the shore
As of a tired traveller knocking against a jammed door.

Oh! Drops of rain, they consider me their foe,
Lashing out at me, compelling me to let go;
How dare am I one with The One?
Their existence from which did begun!

Amidst the wrath of the greying sky,
the roaring tempest looked me in the eye;
One that can never subside to my delight
Alas because it’s Me! From Me I can never have respite!

Rest I shall against the dancing brine?
But to what avail if my soul in tumult cannot reside?
What good would resting against the stars do?
If they haunt me with memories old and new?