Walk along the ocean shore. Listen to the rhapsody of sound. The restless surging of waves, the tireless whisper of the breeze. Feel the gentle caress of salt-sea air brushing its fingers through your hair, blushing your cheek, enwrapping you in that place entirely. Listen to the cries of the terns, winging overhead upon the boundless open sky. Watch as the breakers roll and rush, building in majestically deliberate measure until their passion unfurls upon the shore with fervor and vigor. But long this ardor is not meant to be, for just as inexorably, the tide shall turn and ebb once more, withdrawing back from whence it came until the touch of the sea upon the shore is tender and relaxed, quiet and peaceful.
This beauty that reaches into the soul; these sounds that, somehow, reconnect me with a time now long forgotten, and this relentless waxing and waning has ever made me sit in awe-struck wonder, pondering mysteries beyond my comprehension. For are not these rhythms, these harmonies, these moments of passion and fury, as well as these moments of serenity and calm akin to the nature that struggles within me? The gentle whispers of spirit and the brusque volubility of the form, the flesh, that converse together ceaselessly, that commune and coexist, yet seem to ever be at odds. For while one reaches for that which is nearly unattainable, the other grasps at the fleeting and transitory, both wanting more, both yearning for harmony and unity, both speaking in tones I neither hear nor comprehend.
Yet, should it not be that these two voices, these twain that are, indeed, united every day I draw breath, speak of harmony to me? Why should they argue? Why should they intemperate be, when they are merged and sing in me? Should not they, then, proclaim their love with unabashed tones, begging to be heard, longing to be understood? Does one not dictate the delicate, loving boundaries for the other, creating an inexpressibly beautiful periphery where they tenderly unite?
If both were (as surely they are) created by the same loving Hand that formed the harmonious universe itself, why, then, should they live inside of me eternally at odds? Could they not speak of the restless ocean of emotion, passion, desire, dreams, and aspiration to touch the Beautifully Divine that dwells deep within each heart, each soul? Living and breathing in melodic concert, like the waves, the sun, the sand, terns and salt-sea air that breathe and sigh together upon the Ocean Shore? Eternally bonded, yet ever separate; one simply cannot exist without the other.
Beautiful Photograph found at: exotichikes.blogspot.com