It's strange how sometimes things just call out to you. For me it was the ocean-- angry and cobalt blue with shimmers of cerulean peaking out from underneath the sea foam. No matter how busy I felt inside, the ocean would always bring a stillness to my thoughts like clean hands slowly sifting through flour. My mind would feel so content in comparison to the raging waves crashing upon old, worn down rocks pockmarked with time.
Then beneath the surface, life was exploding in the quiet. The ocean was the womb of the world, where life started and where life would most probably end. I could envision shipwrecks broken and sad yet brimming with a new purpose as life grew from within it's long forgotten body. Sometimes I felt like a shipwreck, too: waiting for my new purpose to breathe life into this lonely vessel. Maybe that's why the ocean called out to me. I could hear it's song which was a hum of mysterious long forgotten memories-- all of the earth's history in a single, lingering note suspended in the space between the fog of my breath and the icy cold of the water.
I could feel the salt of the sea in my bones as they ached upon the dampened sand. Grains upon grains upon grains of stone that were once mighty rocks, now fallen and eroded. The echoes of old life hung in the air around me as I looked out into our universe on earth: the ocean, old and lonely as I felt yet brimming with life.
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