Sand Angel

She lays sprawled on the beach, her eyes closed, her breath in rhythm with the crashing waves. The sun hides under a thick blanket of clouds, showing itself only long enough to breathe a stream of warmth upon the vacant stretch of beach. She feels the tiny pieces of sand digging deeper into her scalp as she moves her head back and forth, creating the perfect resting place for her tired mind. She usually brings a blanket on her visits but today she yearns for the raw connection between body and earth. She wants to feel the coolness of the descent as she sinks deeper into the separating grains of sand making way for her imposing mass of flesh and bone. For a moment, she strains to hear the familiar voices of the hovering birds as they effortlessly offer their beautiful songs to the sea goddesses. It doesn't take long before she realizes that her head is buried too deep in the sand to marvel in these songs. She is left alone with the caravan of thoughts parading through her consciousness, each one adding a heaviness to her spirit. Slowly and deliberately, she begins to usurp the power of her persistent thoughts. They have served their purpose. She wraps each one in a bubble and watches as they float away into the ethers. She feels lighter. She feels happy. Once again, she is healed by the magic of the ocean. She sticks out her tongue and tastes the droplets of salt water that will soon be encompassing her body. She slowly begins to move her arms and legs in a semi-circular motion. To pay homage to the sea, she creates a sand angel.

Constant Wonder

It is that time of day when the light begins to melt into darkness. The sky is lavishly decorated with wisps of red, orange, and purple. In the distance, the snow capped mountains withdraw behind the curtain of twilight, revealing only the shapes of their majestic peaks. There is a stillness in the air. An eerie feeling of serenity and uncertainty as the spirits of day cross paths with the children of night. This is his favorite time of day. He stares into the thin white line that separates the heavens from the earth and wonders what it would be like to jump through to the other side. What hides behind this thin veil of illusion that so clearly marks the transition of time? He finds himself walking towards this spot on the horizon. Perhaps today is the day he will reach out and find the answers to the questions he has asked since he was a small boy. With each step, he becomes more embedded in the growing body of twilight. The once distinct line of separation is closing in upon itself as the night closes it's jaw around the last morsel of light. He starts running with the hope that his speed will prevail over his fierce competitor. Just a little bit further. The spot of light becomes smaller and smaller until it finally vanishes into the darkness. He slows to a walk, puts his hands on his knees and bends over to catch his breath. He looks out into the distance and allows himself a moment of contemplation before he straightens himself up and begins his journey home. At least he can look forward to another day of wonder.

In the Field of Daisies

She often dreams of pirouetting through fields of daisies. Not just any daisies but Gerber daisies. Their colorful, luscious petals attaching themselves to the hem of her flowing dress and tickling her bare feet each time she tiptoes on the ground. She opens her arms and invites the wind to join her in an ecstatic dance. Her eyes are closed but she sees clearly. Her heart is tender but open. Sometimes he's with her. Sometimes she's alone. Somewhere in the middle of the dream, the sky opens up and the rain begins to fall, invigorating the sweet earthly juices that fill the air with their intoxicating aromas. She breathes it all in. She stops for a moment. Long enough to feel the muddy earth crawling into the spaces between her toes. She tilts her head towards the streaming ray of sun that has found it's way through the weak spot in the cloud. She runs her fingers through her hair. Her dress clings to the sensual curves of her body. She is beautiful in the soft light encompassing her. Young. Angelic. Free.

A Single Tear

An old man rests peacefully on his favorite bench in the park. His eyes slightly unfocused, staring blankly at the pink clouds on the blossoming cherry tree. He visits the park everyday as it has become his temple for reflection and contemplation. A place where he can unite with his gods and wrestle with his demons. His memories play through his mind like a black and white movie. While he mostly observes the scenes, every once in a while, he puts one into a freeze frame, touches it, tastes it, dives into the feelings surrounding it, then lets it go and moves on to the next. Lately, he finds himself on repeat as he remembers the first moment he laid his eyes (and his heart) upon his wife. It was a warm, sunny day in the beginning of spring. He was taking a carefree walk through the neighborhoods, admiring the blossoming magnolias and budding spring flowers in his neighbors gardens. The moment she opened the door to his heart, he saw her standing below a tree with a tear in her eye as she tried desperately to coax her new kitten down from the tallest branch. He approached her slowly, their eyes met, and then both turned to the meowing creature stuck in the tree. He surveyed the situation, took off his jacket and hat, jumped to reach the nearest branch, and in a series of eloquent twists and turns, climbed to the top of the tree and rescued the kitten. When he made it safely to the ground, he was greeted with a smile that lit up the entire town. A smile that still lights up his eyes when he thinks of her, his soulmate. They had a beautiful life together and although he climbed that tree to rescue the kitten, there were many times that she climbed mountains to rescue him. As he drifts back to the park, and the poetic blooms of the cheery tree, he brings a hand to his face and wipes away a single tear born out of love and remembrance.

Lingering ghosts

She sat on the front porch sipping her iced tea, her hair wet with sweat and her dress clinging to her voluptuous body like a second skin. In the background, the mesmerizing tones of a sensual jazz singer captured her attention and whisked her into a beautiful dance. She felt herself smile as she closed her eyes and melted into the delicious sounds beckoning her into a smoky room filled with whiskey and mysterious people. For a moment she forgot that her life was elsewhere. She forgot that she ached for the busy streets where she could navigate with anonymity and live courageously without eyes watching her around every corner. The voice projecting from the radio offered refuge to her current situation. She never thought her life would bring her back to this place, to this moment, where all the growth that she experienced was stripped from her bones and she was once again a naked child. She tried everything to escape, did everything right. For a tranquil period of time, she felt comfort knowing that she finally created her own utopia where the ghosts of the past could not find her and drag her back to a place that made her feel small and insignificant. Then, one day, as she was sipping her morning latte, the phone rang and she knew she was being summoned back to the past. She stared solemnly at the caller id, losing herself for what seemed an eternity, before she finally picked up the phone and invited back all of the complexities that plagued her as a little girl. She knew she had no choice. Her sense of duty would not allow her to ignore the phone call.

Now, as she sits on the porch, listening to the familiar song, she is grateful for the moments of calm before she has to confront the lingering ghosts. She is grateful for this one magic moment.

Patient Battles

She gazes at him over the pages of her book as he sleeps soundly on the opposite end of the couch. His body curled up like a cat, his eyelids fluttering as he lives his subconscious life in the land of dreams. She takes a deep breath, a breath of appreciation, a breath of wonder. They have been through so much together. She can barely remember her life before he exploded into her world and turned things upside down, forcing her to grow in ways she never thought possible. She can feel her heart expand as she remembers the gentle unfolding of the protective petals that once surrounded her strong, yet fragile heart. There were times when she fought so hard to stay hidden behind the self-created fortress, digging deep for her warrior spirit to protect her from her fears and deepest desires. Like a shapeshifter, he found the smallest cracks in her walls and managed to meld himself to fit inside. He was patient and kind. Letting her feel like she had control when all the while he was deconstructing the fortress one piece at a time. She fought hard. She fought long. But in the end, when her ego was tired, she knew there was no way that her fear could triumph over her opening heart. He won and it was the sweetest victory for both of them.
She is nudged back to the present as she feels him stir, opening his eyes for a brief moment before drifting back to sleep. She rises from the couch, pulls a blanket over his body, and gently kisses him on the lips. She returns to her book with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude, knowing that some battles are worth fighting.

It's All in a Song

The radio played her favorite song. She smiled and bit her lip as her head found the rhythm and began to move back and forth. She closed her eyes and let the music infuse her body, finding all of those empty, sore spaces that longed to be filled with beauty and grace. For a moment, she forgot where she was, who was watching, what she was running from, and she allowed herself to be swept away by a force stronger than her will. Without realizing it, tears began to stream down her sun-kissed face as the tumultuous circumstances of her life temporarily melted away. Her body relaxed and surrendered to the sweet melodies and driving bass that took control of her body and rendered her rational mind useless. For those few moments, she felt alive and connected to something primal and mysterious. To an outsider, especially a judgmental one, she might have appeared to be on the verge of insanity. Her body moving in a hundred directions, gutteral sounds coming from her core, her hair flailing as if in ecstasy. She needed this more than anyone would ever know. This sliver of time when she remembered her essence, her passion, and her desire to live. This one song might have just saved her.