Opportunities abound when people watching, new things to try or reruns with barbs. What happens when the alarm bells ring and although we should be excited? Why are these experiences with us? Done bashing my head against a brick wall, I sit back, retreating into the comfort of silence.
Thousands of stories, characters and plots that unfold. One lumpy afternoon ample fodder for a book or two. Weird stuff happens some of it almost unbelievable but conflict makes writing memorable. This poem came from recent seaside reflections.
Cliffs by the Sea
Sometimes, I look at the blue of the sky
and wonder how it can be so infinite.
Sometimes, I look at the leaves of green
and see the shades and shapes.
Sometimes, I look at the rich brown earth
and want to rest a while in her arms.
My blood surges through my veins
red, pulsing and alive.
My breath comes and goes
invisible to the eye yet sustaining.
My hand rests gently
on my grandson’s tousled hair.
When I look inside beyond my form,
I feel so much more than I can ever see.
When I feel emotions stirring within,
I touch the truth that life veils.
When I allow myself to be held
I am one with the cliffs by the sea.
Life’s about the bigger things. Things larger and more eternal than our petty worries. The sea always grounds me.