Ocean: free, wild, spontaneous, captivating. Derived from the old French word occean via Latin oceanus from Greek ōkeanos meaning: ‘great stream encircling the earth's disc’. Words have a long journey to get to English. Lets take a break from leafy subjects. I love being near the ocean. The smell, the sound, the sight, the taste. All of it. I don't even mind sand in my shoes. There's something so wild and mesmerizing about the sea, a true symbol of the reckless, unpredictability of life. Sometimes its calm and gently laps against the shore; other times its angry and violent, hurling itself at whatever it can reach. Like emotions, like reality. Or the gravitational pull between the moon, the sun & the earth; your choice. I was going to tell a story from my travels in South Africa- the coast there captivated me and is a frequent backdrop to my daydreams. But lets live in the present; i'm here and it is both valid and lovely. I have an awful habit of counting down the days until i can leave somewhere, i don't know why i do it. I do it even when i'm enjoying myself. What the heck am i running from? I doubt i will ever understand myself entirely. I'm trying. There's no time like the present. In fact its the only time. "Wherever you are be all there" There's a little place, Port Logan, just a mile or so away from the gardens; i love it. It's tiny and kind of bleak with an old stone lighthouse. Its by no means the most beautiful beach i've been to but there's a certain quaint charm that makes me smile. My dad always takes great big deep breaths when we arrive anywhere away from the city; i find myself doing this exact thing when i'm at the coast.The salty fresh air just feels good for your soul. On Saturday, the weather raged outside my window, showing no signs of relenting until it suddenly just stopped. The sky opened up and the sun peeked its happy face out from behind the clouds and beamed down on this little part of the Earth. What a blessing that was. I grabbed my camera and scurried on down the muddy wee track to the beach. I was full to bursting with joy and gratitude; i honestly cannot think of a better way to spend a sunny afternoon than strolling along the beach. So this post is my thanks to the Universe for such a wonderful gift. The light you shone for me lit up my world & this little human is oh so grateful. Ode to tortured lovers
I couldn't help but think of this, rather bleak, imagery when I watched the waves. I wrote this verse anyway, sometimes beauty and tragedy go hand in hand and we need to just accept that. Sorry not sorry. ....... a whispered roar as he's ripped from her waiting arms this sorrowful farewell, replayed hundreds of times each day Reaching, stretching, desperate to hold her, just this once a sandy sigh as again, she's left alone on the shore watching him furiously battle his way to her, unrelenting & wild in his actions its a bitter existence, yet our fateful lovers are a true force of nature love: a cruel, taunting game of unyielding promises; but we play it anyway hope illuminates the tragic love story of the sand and the sea ....... |
LittlebirdJenna. Free spirit, flower enthusiast, seeker of truths. Archives
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