There is something very silent about the way the ocean makes one feel.
Her currents -- it is as if all that we miss,
all that has become absent in life suddenly
for a brief moment
overflows in completeness.
How are we as these humans with silken skin,
bones that attach to create a body
be granted this amazing universe to live in?
Only a few hours until sunrise,
I sit on the porch overlooking the ocean.
I watch as early morning risers head down to the seashore
for a dip.
I grabbed a few slices of bread and sat under a pine tree.
Surrounded by fallen needles and baby pinecones,
I pick at the slices and threw them for the birds.
As I do, I close my eyes.
There truly isn't anything more beautiful and peaceful
than awaking before everyone
closing ones eyes
and listening to the silence,
the soft melody of songs from the different birds above
and the ocean
as the waves gently kiss the shoreline.
Mourning doves fly down from the towering pines and sit at my feet
beautiful in their own unique way
and ever so often
one perfect brown pigeon joins the bevy
as they feast on snippets of bread.
For days this became my morning ritual.
On evenings, I would amble the pathways by the craft huts
choose unique art pieces for my home
and purchase fruits from vendors.
When the sun wasn't so torrid,
you would find me
floating in her aquamarine waters
or laying out on the sand
grabbing hold of the grains between my toes
until sundown.
