When waves have a license

Threats of a storm can immobilise
The kindest boats
On the full moon night
When waves have a license
To take liberties with a shore
Raising its arms, like branches
Of a newly washed tree
In the season’s first rain
It might just yawn
But then
Fatigue does not prevent
It to seek freedom from
The throngs of a crocodile
But who knows
Which is better
Freedom and fatigue
Or freshness of a game of intrigue