I see life,
As what it’s going to be,
Veiled by the way that it used to be,
Budding with what it could be,
And in constant conflict with what it is.
And the pounding winds,
Do their absolute best to remove my gaze from the promising Word standing atop of the beating waves.
Beckoning unto me,
Tantalizing me with sweet promises of failure,
That I once gave diligent ears and attention to,
Calling unto me,
Not only from the vocal distractions all around,
But also the captivating call that’s more familiar,
The earth is about 70% water,
And 30% land,
I simply don’t think that it is by coincidence that we are too.
I don’t believe that it is by chance that the same elements that make up this planet that I stand upon,
Also form the feet that I use to stand upon it.
Dust to dust.
So as I stand here.
Inches away from the voice that initially bid me to come, and enjoy the miraculous experiences that I only watched from a distance, with dreamy and desirous eyes,
I have a choice.
A choice to listen to what’s ahead of me,
What’s around me,
Or what’s within me.
As I cautiously take step after step,
Which are snapshots of the supernatural in and of themselves,
I’ve come to a great realization.
It’s never been about noisy oceans,
Or anything external.
I’m learning to ignore the contradictory cries of the internal.