How do I cure this wistfulness I have.
This desire to be by the sea.
Whenever I see a picture
Or read about it
There rages within myself
A deep need
To be there
As though being there
Will make everything all right in my little world.
Perhaps because I believe that it does
In some tiny way.
It settles me
It buoys my spirits
But most of all
It reminds me of how small I really am
And that while my needs, wants, and desires
In the scheme of things
I am one miniscule drop of water
In an endless sea.
So I take what comfort I can get
My small pleasure in nature.
I smell the salt air
Letting it fill my nostrils with the briny texture
Of the deep.
I let the wind whip through my hair
Making me look wild and untamed.
I hear the pounding of the surf
Reminding me that it is violent in its pursuit of land
But as it recedes
Its touch is gentle as a lover’s caress.
I let my senses take in all the gifts of the sea
And it makes it all right again.
My mind focuses.
My soul breathes.
And I let go…
Painting “The Allure” by Michael & Inessa Garmash