it’s beautiful here

quiet

peaceful

the birds fly above

they sing a song in a language i wish i knew

i wonder if birds sing about love as we do?

or heartbreak

or healing

or the magic of life

the waves crash on the beach

and leave as quickly as they came

pulled back into the sea

do they feel trapped?

do they wish to be free?

or does their return feel like coming home?

i want to come home

i am home

but i want to come home

i want to feel content

i want to feel loved

for that is to feel at home

the sand seems to stretch for infinity

they say it holds more grains

than the night sky holds stars

is each grain an individual?

or simply a tool for the greater purpose

of this soft bed on which i sit?

are we individuals?

or cogs in the machine of life?

will we ever really know?

it’s quiet here

so quiet

all i can do here is think

about the birds, and the sea

and the sand on the beach

and the ways in which i fit