Song Of The Ocean, Song Of Me

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Kahlil
Senior Member

since 2003-04-12

Posts 1881

0 posted 2003-04-29 10:27 AM

Glorious clouds fill the sky this early morn, lit up by the morning sun.  Joy, forgiveness, comfort, hope. The white and grey contrasts, for moments or minutes, seem not to move or change or touch at all; reminders of years with a sad, but hopeful heart. All too familiar. And I wonder how it’s possible that I could lend one single thought of gloom to this scene.  Afraid to envision a happier picture maybe.  Keep working, keep trying.  Blue sky inks the background and shows off the fluffy pillows of a daring daydream.

Slanted squalls appear on the horizon, with a yellow light shining through.  Where does the light come from in the west when it is only morning?  What is that brightness stirring in my memory?  Or is it a reflection, of my soul?  Grey needles of the squall shoot precipitation into dark, faraway swells of the ocean.  They capture my attention.  At the same time the  ocean is curiously calm on the shoreline of nature’s scape.  As if to lie down and let the weather have its glory in the lovers’ song I dream so well.

The gales that blew in during the night had subsided by the time of my wakefullness, only to renew themselves now in the late morn of my rapt attention.  Everything stirs in response.  I wonder, is there any chance that the he in my dreams every night is really me?  What is the message?  Please, what is the message? Peace does not last long in this realm.  It reminds me, I played with the fire, I got it to burn.  Now the ocean builds to a rage and I cannot own the wind.  I’m helpless.

Nature’s signals remind me that my own realization, layer by layer, rips away what isn’t needed, and I’m so afraid.  How will I live without those things familiar? Someone, please come hold me. But I know that isn’t to be.  We all struggle with life’s supposed cruelties.  It’s a cycle, and that’s all, but it’s a lot.  I am fearful, but at least I’m included in nature’s song.

I thought about the surfers as I watched their determination to ride out this storm, desiring to be one with the ocean, no matter her disposition.  They know they are not in command.  Falling into the roiling embrace of the sea they love, with its every wave, every tide, every gust, every squall, maybe to grip her for a few seconds, (for dear life?),  but never to keep that for which they long.  How I know this truth.

The grey clouds slowly drift northward now, on this afternoon.  The squalls never did reach the shore, though I waited, ready to resist or just survive.  I know they’ll be back.  I watch the fluffy white clouds return to scour away the grey.  I want to believe they are shining for me, and the one I love, and the one who loves me, somewhere in space and time.  Anywhere.  And the water is blue again, with frothy white waves.  Nature balances her show, and plays the music of the ocean song, in every strand of me.

Brad Majors