Perhaps

Sails furrowed seem to come alive as they catch the wind.
Bursting open, pulling – straining and creaking the mast and deck – pulling the bow about.
The wind in my face, and I draw in a sweet, sweet aroma of the sea…

Seagulls hanging on the air, hovering, searching the shore for a tasty treat,
then swiftly diving into the warm waters, screeching as if to be saying
they are glad to be what they are, glad to showoff what it is they do so well…

I feel so much a part of this sea.
As the granules of the shore together hold the sea.
I feel I too am part of that shore, holding, holding the sea cupped in my arms.
How else could I enclose my arms around you?
How else could I carry you, and be embraced by you?
By myself I am a single grain, but together we can hold the sea…

Together…

Perhaps…

I sail past stony cliffs where the sea and I had played many times before.
I remember as if it were just yesterday, when we were together, there.
I recall the smells and the sounds, the rocky cliffs, and sandy shore.
I sometimes wonder if you might remember too…

Perhaps…
...........