I love the beach. I love MY beach... the beach of my home. This is it... somewhere over the rainbow, my beach, where I often retreated to try to understand the meaning of life, lies.I miss the soft, white sand. The gentle ripples created by the wind blowing across the dunes. The renourishment fences which go up whenever a hurricane brings another big dune down. The blue skies and white clouds of home.
I wish I could drive there today. I could stand a little time to search, again, for meaning, for hope, for the sense of optimism that has tinted my dreams for decades but now seems to be fading with time.
Such it is, this life.
It seeks to rob us of our blood, one tiny cut at a time.
And so we must fight this thief in the night for our life's blood, for our dreams to come true.
3 comments:
I love it when the right hand doesn't talk to the left because the left has a thumb that isn't opposable.
I love it when oxen call.
I love it when you realize the puzzle didn't come together because four pieces were on the ground.
I think oxen don't call... I think they actually "low" but nonetheless...
I love it when I can stand in one spot and see down two paths at once... but only far enough to know I've really no choice. I can only walk down one of them or run the other way. The path which eludes me seems beautiful and lush with butterflies and promises and dreams come true. But perhpas that is always the way with a path one can not take... if one has the opportunity to stare down it for awhile.
I love the moment just before anything happens. The suspension of time as the not happening lingers like stagnant air.
I love the realization that you'd rather be commiserating with a clove and a cup of coffee staring at the stars than doing just about anything else because you can be philosophical and breathe rather than holding your breath and waiting for the
other
shoe
to
drop...
...Squids wear more than two shoes, so it
drops...
drops...
drops...
...and so on.
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