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A reflection at the end of one's days |
A simple smile formed on my lips that instant, where the tranquil surrounds finally pervaded my conscious. The sound of soft winds whistling past my ears and the taste of early morning dew still forming, tickled my senses like nothing I could remember. I felt giddy, just experiencing these few things that even my knees quivered in delight. My eyes flutter open with the sound of the ocean beneath; the waves rolling on the beach shore below in a wash of foam, invisible in the fog that has made its home, however temporary, on the faded yellow sands. I look down, with a calmness that I never experience with heights, and watch as driftwood and other articles of nature that were claimed by the ocean slowly nudge themsleves off the beach and settle back down, in beat with the rhythmic patterns of the swell. I shiver slightly as the brisk morning air finds its way under my coat and turn my gaze along the shoreline, moving from blackened darkness of the pre-dawn to views of dull greens and crimson amber, which, as I follow its jutted and man-influenced form, until, like all things, it disappears from view in a sea of eerie fog. A pre-dawn filter of light begins to sparkle upon the sands, shimmering and twinkling within my mind's eye, that I feel like a door is opening - both onto the world and in my head, then the snap and groan of rotted wood parting way as a new wave of emotions fill me. I can't see the fear that has enveloped me all my life, can't sense the urgency to back away from the cliff face like I normally would have... Strange that I don't recognise these new emotions, without ever feeling them before. Without a name that I can call them, I can't imagine... but I sense an inner peace, settling over my heart, like the sands far below covering the desolate beach. Above me, a seagull caws; its ringing voice sharp and clear on the winds as it circles the beach, eyeing off potential food sources. A flap of its wings, powered by magical muscles that keep it aloft on the creation of early morning sunlight of the warming air currents, reminds me of a spectacle I once enjoyed watching. The seagull settling in a gentle arc, gliding down ever so slowly as its almost colourless eyes lock onto a morsel of food below and moves in for the grab. I watch the seagull with curious intent, unable to take my eyes off the creature. Its freedom, without restraint from a world controlled by money, never worrying about the cruelty of its kin and but for procreation and of food... I sigh with a feeling of warm contentment; my warm breath passing over my lips and into the cold air, leaving for a few seconds, a thin vapour of mist. Time passes before my eyes on this hallowed ground, where miniscule life flutters by without my knowledge, and the ocean seeps up, over the sands gently as the first rays of the distant sun creak through the pale clouds above. A soft surge of raw power being carried in the wind reaches my ears, tickling the tiny hairs within my canal, itchy. I shake my head at the display below me. As I cast my glance down the walls of the cliff, I can sense an impenetrable feeling of foreboding, as if the sharp inclinces of rock were an ancient enemy of mine; that we had battled throughout the ages. Just waiting to start the battle anew and either claim its dominance over me, or succumb in defeat. Such thoughts, even for something that posesses no soul, can think or feel emotions is beyond what I can understand; where this land of massive clump of sand, rock, grass and jutted sporadically with tree limbs is nearer to God than ever I could imagine. From whence it came, it can choose to slip back into the darkness with the mere faint of the lapping water below, without a sound. Envious of a lifeless form, I can't tell what's gotten to me these days, as I climb to watch the sunrise day after day and I've never thought of such things even once in all my life. Why now? Perhaps, I can hear the gears grinding away within my head, that this is the thought, the spiritual awakening of all those who worship the life in which surrounds them, letting go of all their past desires to work unselfishly for the greater good of the Mother-land. Who am I to cast judgement over something I can't even comprehend?(60) The sky above me brightens in intensity as the sun's warm rays break away the low lying clouds, dissipating the fog-drenched beach enough that I can now see the moment in which the beauty of this planet shines into existence for the creatures of light. A breath-taking array of sights and sounds that I've scarsely experienced before in the jumble of the steel-capped cities opens up freely before me now, allowing me an audience with God through a voiceless, thoughtless sense of passion that makes my lips curve upward in a smile. . I cast my hands out to the winds and breath in the crisp air that brings life to my old bones and close my eyes once more. There is nothing but a gentle relief of passion that I can feel now, that I can embrace the feeling for the remainder of my years; knowing that, with this one day of outlook on all the things I have lived with in the world, there can never be a match for the utopia of God's creation that I see before me now. |