I walked along a beach on the beautiful northern California coastline it was a day like any other; the chill in the morning fog was unkind to those who dare have the audacity to venture out onto the ever changing sands.
I happened upon a seashell, I didn't think it possible for an object to seem so incredibly lonely. I sat down as I felt a chill to my very core. With my knees drawn up to my chest hoping to warm my skin if not my heart. So many people see the ocean for all the beauty it holds, I have seen it without it's mask. It is the coldest, most desolate, most lonely sight to behold. I have always felt the ache as I stand on it's beaches. Even now, as I think of it a thousand miles away; a tear comes to my eye. It's as if it represents the loneliness the entire world feels in it's murky dead silent depths.
No matter how far I move inland, it haunts me, the sound of the waves beating mercilessly upon the helpless land, standing bravely, yet still aware of the impending danger the seemingly weak waves might bring with every crest. I often wonder if I am the only person who can hear the deafening silence in the fog I feel the sadness envelop me cling to my skin, it's as if the ghosts of all the lost souls are begging for a reprieve. I turn thinking surely I am not all alone on the precipice, but alas it is I and I alone who sits shivering; weeping for those who can't sympathize with the emptiness.
I still find the ocean beautiful but I respect that it has secrets never to be shared with those still to be found unworthy.
I happened upon a seashell, I didn't think it possible for an object to seem so incredibly lonely. I sat down as I felt a chill to my very core. With my knees drawn up to my chest hoping to warm my skin if not my heart. So many people see the ocean for all the beauty it holds, I have seen it without it's mask. It is the coldest, most desolate, most lonely sight to behold. I have always felt the ache as I stand on it's beaches. Even now, as I think of it a thousand miles away; a tear comes to my eye. It's as if it represents the loneliness the entire world feels in it's murky dead silent depths.
No matter how far I move inland, it haunts me, the sound of the waves beating mercilessly upon the helpless land, standing bravely, yet still aware of the impending danger the seemingly weak waves might bring with every crest. I often wonder if I am the only person who can hear the deafening silence in the fog I feel the sadness envelop me cling to my skin, it's as if the ghosts of all the lost souls are begging for a reprieve. I turn thinking surely I am not all alone on the precipice, but alas it is I and I alone who sits shivering; weeping for those who can't sympathize with the emptiness.
I still find the ocean beautiful but I respect that it has secrets never to be shared with those still to be found unworthy.
No comments:
Post a Comment