The dew twinkled on the green blades of grass in the last moments of moonlight as I walked from the beach house onto the wide stretch of cream-colored sand. The sand was comforting and made me feel certain of a definite substance under my weight as I groped through the path of rising mist. I had overslept, just a little, and knowing Nature waits for no one I had to hurry to take my grandstand seat. It seems everything around me was encouraging my promptness. The wind blew through my auburn curls from behind me as if tugging me along. The waves breaking at the foot of my stand, kept time as they consistently flowed in and out upon one another. The seagulls’ cries, as they swooped over their breakfast, echoed, “Hurry”. With a vigorous intake of salty air, I hoisted my body eastward onto the cold damp rocks and prepared my eyes for the day’s creation. The fingertips of the sun’s early morning rays appeared from behind the pinkish-orange heavens. The brightness skimmed over the green blue vastness of water picking up every shimmering detail of life within it. As time moved quickly on, the sun’s hands and arms extended out, engulfing every beauty and form of life that thrived on her – and I was included.
Unearthed during the recent attic cleaning.
Written in September 1972
© rgb for “On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea”, 2011
Saints, Monks and Meditations