Perfectly color coordinated with the stones they clack sideways on, they eventually no longer give me a second thought, as I feel privy to that which most are unaware or simply don’t care about. A deep love for this planet fills my belly with butterflies and then weaves its way into every corner of me, as I observe the architects to my own eventual existence, wondering if there was no them, if there still would have eventually been a me. They never question their place or their purpose, and know nothing of the world beyond their microcosm; something I, in moments too numerous to count, have wished for myself.
The ocean breathes deeply and rhythmically, discontent with lazily rolling onto the shore like the tourists who randomly trickle in, preferring instead, to crash noisily against the outcroppings of rocks along the beach, exploding like fireworks in a display for no one except the sun, the sky, and the attentive ears of the dwarf palms lining the shoreline. It is too wondrous to resist, so I make my way to the most spectacular of displays on a round, flat mesa, and surrender myself to it.
Within seconds, a wave, more powerful than I anticipated or calculated exploded over me, around me, and through me, knocking me off my feet. The taste of salty water on my lips, barely noticeable under the roar of the ocean bearing down on all sides of me, swaddling me in Mother Nature’s most delicious of inventions, reminds me that this splendor surrounding me is also uninhabitable by my present form. Undeterred, my cells unbridle and shriek awake with a joy too intense to cage, as they remember their home and soak in the place I find only in those moments when my mind ceases to desire.
Dissolving into this splendor seems so effortless, and in brief expanses, I dream of such delicious embrace. Why not lie down, fall fast asleep, and let the ocean carry me away in its eternal dance? In this moment, my insignificance heaves under the weight of my solace, and my place in this universe awakens into a clarity more vivid than words could ever show. Without question, something inside me is screaming for home, and I do my best to resist, as I have become attached to this frame and am not ready to give it up just yet.
In all truth, everything is for nothing, eventually. All our worry, anger, work, and passion dissolves into the ether in lives barely more than a whisper to a loved one or a memory of something we once were, as few seem to choose lives that are free from routine, creature comforts, or the latest Hollywood gossip. If only to believe for a moment, without doubt, that these frames had life beyond them, I would have peace within this one, but until then, I choose to explore and soak in all this frame and these bones can.