low tide
Do you ever feel yourself slipping away? Just kind of rolling away, your own sense of self like the tide ebbing into the sea? It comes back again, always comes back. It's a cycle. A cycle of comings and goings. A cycle of highs and lows, of ins and outs.
Even though i feel somewhat on my way out right now, i know that i'll come back in to flood the banks once more to stir the pebbled beach, to massage and wear at every single grain, until each granule weathers to a smooth, crystalline bead and the shore awaits my coming. I will set upon it with grace, with presence and with ease. The wind will no long control its to and fro. That will be my haven, beaten and caressed into peacefully concaved submission, clinging to my shape, moving at my will. Yes, sometimes i feel i am this tide, this ebb and flow of power. I'm in control.
And yet, sometimes, i am the shore. Waiting, anticipating, longing.
Even though i feel somewhat on my way out right now, i know that i'll come back in to flood the banks once more to stir the pebbled beach, to massage and wear at every single grain, until each granule weathers to a smooth, crystalline bead and the shore awaits my coming. I will set upon it with grace, with presence and with ease. The wind will no long control its to and fro. That will be my haven, beaten and caressed into peacefully concaved submission, clinging to my shape, moving at my will. Yes, sometimes i feel i am this tide, this ebb and flow of power. I'm in control.
And yet, sometimes, i am the shore. Waiting, anticipating, longing.
