a few hundred feet of beach

is there a sequence.   which first.   which second.   like breathing.   like sleeping, being awake.   does one exist without the other.   does language take sides.   can you explain why this is a rabbit hole.   the way you know, standing barefoot on the beach, each wave receding takes some sand away from beneath your feet.   although it never puts any sand back again.
        not till you’re gone, looking away.

I see beauty.   changing.   same time I’m also afraid.   all that energy stirring, changing, whilst I represent a status quo, all my big thoughts inside.   thus admire those whose nature calls this home, a home which both supports and keeps.   you are one face of common reality.
        no way out, neither desire.

foreground.   background.   language follows us.   poems first.   maybe the world is more fluid.   maybe we are our own ocean inside.   hard to see what is everywhere.   background seems to matter less.
        I misunderstand a lot.

it is different to live three-dimensionally.   we don’t really have thoughts for that.   we are surface crawlers.   even our time in the skies are nothing more than brief leaps.   we cannot stay.   even birds.   
        we fall.

and yet, circles comfort me.

MBA webcam views of Monterey Bay used with permission.
please visit and/or support the Monterey Bay Aquarium.   
they make the ocean more alive.   us too.

please do enlarge the header image.   else miss seeing what’s to see.


2 thoughts on “a few hundred feet of beach

  1. “we are surface crawlers”—this line got me. Yes. There’s always so much we don’t know and yet we crawl along anyway. We try in the face of all the hard stuff. We circle and find the moments of serendipity that bring us clarity before falling again onto the ground.

    Liked by 1 person

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