Whimsy vs. Reality

Swimming in the ocean, I feel the cold water around me and the salt on my skin. Splashing, I stare into the endless horizon of water before me. The ocean is erratic, never ceasing its well-rehearsed act, it knows its roles better than the greatest actors of Hollywood. Oh how I would love to swim in the ocean forever, but I am not a squid and I live on the ground that is my home.


Running into the unknown, I can’t help but think that she might not be there anymore. Where could she have gone? I seem to ask myself that question continuously, however it helps very little so I must sprint into the unknown to find her. I don’t know what I would say to her when I find her. The only words that come to mind is I love you. Never have I said that to anyone who is not family or friend. When I can say that to her I know then that she is standing in front of me and I am no longer standing in the unknown. I am where I need to be. I cannot run forever for I will find her and it might take time, but I am persistent.


Standing on this bridge, I look to see the river. Nothing could be more beautiful than the water dancing on the surface of the earth. Standing a moment could feel like an eternity when I gaze upon the beautiful chaos that rushes below. Could I find a way down, I would not hesitate to be near so that I may feel the cool mist brush against my face.  Had I more time, I would stay longer to stare at the river, however there are matters of great importance that require my attention.


Sitting under a maple tree, I watch the branches dance whimsically though the air. I doubt anything could be more entertaining than watching the tree boogie to the rhythmic course of the wind. Would I be smaller, I could sit on the branches as if on some crazy rollercoaster, however such things are reserved for smaller creatures. Having more time, I would hang about a bit longer, but important issues must be taken care of first.


Laying in a bed of flowers, I survey the petals to observe their texture. Funny how when looking closely you see how ugly something is. It is only when you look at the whole do you see the beauty of the flowers. Luckily, that is what you see when looking at flowers, the whole. If only the same could be said about people. We only see the individual petals and are gazing upon them up close. Could we see the whole of a person, we find that they are not really how they make themselves out to be. Should I have more time, I would ponder about this in more detail. I have too many things to do.



Listening to the rain, I wonder if anyone else can hear the beautiful melody of the droplets hitting the window. Listening, however, has become a dead art. It seems people only know how to hear and hearing is not the same. Perhaps the world could be a better place if everyone learned how to listen once more. The rain brings joy to the plants; I hope they get their fill. I am not able to listen to the rain forever, the clouds will clear and let the sun shine through.


Could I, I wonder, or should I be able to find her? Would she know what I look like? Having but a few pictures of a past long ago, I wonder if I look like the person in those pictures. Time has a way of changing everything. Should it be so kind to turn a few seconds into a few hours for that one perfect moment when everything is so right in the world that you can hear the planet sing.


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