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