The waves continue their endless search moving ever on ward across this scene. The sound of yellow, green and brown palm stocks wave across the sky generating their contribution of what is music of nature and the sound is real. The sound is wind depended and with all this a tune comes out that blends with the waves hitting the sand and rocks. Once the rhythm is complete you know how it can be, no one hears, but it is there. Maybe no one cares, but it is. Will it ever be different or change?
The white bleached sand reflected natures beaming sun as it bounced off the water and headed towards the blue sky above. The breeze was continuously whispering through the scattered palm trees. Birds hovered and then flew by landing between the breaks of the non-human environment. Strips of green and aqua ran through the white caps as they peaked like sails running on top of the waves, they looked like giant wheels coming from the past.
People gradually mixed with the sun and breeze, while off in the background ships could be seen heading toward this simple patch of paradise. While the sun continued filtering in-between the cool wind, generating natural affect of isolation. Looking down into the clear ocean bottom was yellow blended in with green and purple reflections.
At the same time whitecaps continued beating the shore of sand and rocks. Squalls of fine sand collected in small streams before settling down to cover the land and feeling like sandpaper. The breeze never ended and this kept the hot baking sun from becoming over bearing. On top of the white table, thin low spreading stubble green growth could be seen, but if you quickly looked, it was austere.
The dryness of the palm trees would swing freely in the breeze adding a tune that only nature could understand. With each gust of wind a new tune was played and it added the ambiance which was peaceful and yet full of life.
Darkness would cover part of the horizon, but the sun’s power continued to pressure this scene. Cloud cover did not alter the winds, because they were driven by the never ending ocean bearing. Pockets of blue were true and many finding shade in this land was delicate.
You could always see at least two white caps racing toward the beach. These would hit the sand and rocks ending their mission, but in a short distance new white streaks of foam could be seen coming again. The deep-sea could be seen flat as far as the eye could see, it looked like it had no end, but you wondered, where was the beginning?
Time passed and you know it had never really started; it is only the measurement of mankind. With that we judge what has happened and what will become. A reference that reaches beyond the ages only by human evaluation, but the land has continued to dominate all that there is. It will continue with or without the human element or its spirit.
The days continue as before, breeze and sun clear the way for another day. The sounds are nature’s way of expressing what is, not what could be. Clouds and birds mix well with the on going rest of what this area has to offer. Every day is a new beginning of what is an ancient time; the past is the beginning of a life that is short in time, but long in memory.
The sky is blue with white puffy clouds are in the horizon, like a pencil line of darkness is endless. With the beginning there is no end, and yet out of this fine line ships enter and leave like magic. The design of the water changes with the sun’s reflection and position; with this the beach becomes surreal. The air is clean like nature should be, but it has deteriorated because mankind has taken what it they feel is and turned it into what it has become.
You sometimes wonder where these winds have come from or where they are going. Maybe just maybe they are returning from the path of its past. The power of the sun is ever lasting and dominates only its direction where it shines and has no reason just that it can and does. Mankind’s influence can over take the wind and its peaceful setting as airplanes rumble in and glide over head, bring the world closer to its nature and with it come peace and direction.
As you gaze through the hot sand and cool water you know what’s here could be anywhere, and yet you come here. Sitting between the palm trees finding shade is a luxury and watching the birds and insects hiding in the fine white grains of sand makes you understand what nature has always shared.
When the breezes slow the palm tree branches rest and change the tune with it comes change, which is the sign of life. Power boats wiz by on a limited time base, plastic cups roll on the sand like a lost element out of its environment, but humans have added this element that breaks the creativity of the sand and the different shades of blue water. People stop and gaze endlessly into the openness of the horizon, knowing out there is life and with it comes what could be another group looking in our direction seeing nothing but sand.
As you write on the paper, miniature grains of sand stop and find their home with the ink and attach themselves with these words. In a way being driven can be the one element that has been overlooked. Sand has power and with it comes words, will these make a difference is not clear, but having said that I am here and the words flow like the hour glass of time, but have no boundaries, just time.
Will mankind outlive time is never clear and sitting here I know it can never be, because time is everlasting and mankind is only borrowing a small second of what is. Each person brings forward a thought and a concept with it change. So you wonder. The simple luxury of sand, water and the sky is mostly overlooked and without it, where would we be? Taking what has always been does not mean understanding so why we guide ourselves onward.
The barren wasteland rolled through the flat land, with each gust dust was created in time, each mouth became dry. The sun baked the land that could only maintain the barren shrubs, rocks and clusters of long sticks of cactus. The terrain was filled with crushed cinders and rocks making it easy to walk yet slippery on flat surfaces that held grains of sand that would or could not blow away.
The brown shades of color only varied from light tan to dark, almost black brown earth. How Mother Nature controlled this landscape with the baking blistering sun. There was a slight overcast that allowed a cooling trend, but with the wind all the effects of humidity decreased. The land maintained that crisp dryness that sucked all attempts to sweat and you could still feel the rolls of water leaving your body, but it was captured by your own clothes.
Rocks were stacked like people’s images when they were plentiful. The only hand nature has the ability to create this creation. Each road was mostly like the land was and the few where paved that was a sign of humanity. Settlements were small and self enclosed by walls and isolation. Each structure was unique in that it captured the bareness of this land of few rolling landscapes. Much was left like it was in days before man.
Civilization had never captured the way human existence was, now only the remains of what could be showed and with it only what people can be seen, not what humanity things it should be making the endless miles of sand paradise. The forces of nature on this barren land can only be appreciated once you have a need for creature comforts that have been taken for granted. Removing the security of what you have, will drive the dryness of what you are, not what you feel you should be.
Life when you have only endless wasteland makes you see and feel what your own density is. The sounds of endless nothing can be on the winds blowing by your senses and once gone by, you are alone. So the desert dry land can be what all human evaluation is heading for, because that is were they all came from. No shelter, no hiding, you become like the cacti and rocks when they cast the only shadow and give some token relief to whatever wonders on the earth.
As far as the eye can see, blue water blows across the area. White caps race towards the beaches, racing with the squalls of fine grain sand. The white caps are ever lasting as they appear in line, like a thousand brooms sweeping the surface with endless energy of natures will.
The sun with white spots of painted clouds cover the upper most vistas called the universe. In the distance, a darker haze appears as the resultant of civilization. Yet the ever forceful wind circle around the mist at the same it drives ever forward, towards another location in another time.
Those everlasting white caps run like fish on the top of the blue and green water, breaking up as they reach land, with that final lunge forward, spray is forced on all that it can reach. The reality of that power is lost in the energy, but covering rocks, sand and plants. Yet the sand continues to strip the surface only to re-seed in another location.
Ever moving forward and the birds above flight their forward momentum to regain their little island of worth. The white caps have only a beginning with the turbulence of nature. The view is like a marble table straight and endless, almost like you could walk on it forever and as you take a step reality makes it clear, the top has a bottom. With it, you are under the influences of depth that can not be seen and only visualized until you take that step on a mystical surface that is not real.
The white sands are not as straight as the water ahead and yet you can walk without fear because mankind is here. So it goes, water is king and we are the slaves to accept but we want to win. Humanity becomes the balance of nature that has been accepted. With it comes the real struggle of what life is all about. The waves move up and down without white caps and then turn into one swell of high water topping that is the crest which is the power of movement and like it began it ends on the land.
Moving forward, but never gaining on the formation of land. Beating day and day out in darkness, the full sun is like time but it has no end. You can feel the breeze, but never the waves because it is timed and measured by the sun. When the sun is covered by the puffy clouds, the water top changes colors, but the feeling is still the same.
It is not the changes from green to light green to dark that makes the difference, because the waves beat off the colors. It becomes the visualization of what the mind eyes experiences and with it comes that one element that mankind searches for serenity of the soul which is the feeling within the mind. Tuning out the past can create that flow of hope for the future. Will we all end on the beach of time mixed with the grains of sand that hold no meaning? Paradise of the mind might be captured during these thoughts and yet you forget what all this could mean, you are a part of the winds the water and nature. The question that mankind has struggled with can have as answer, but few will ever see that until it has little meaning. Reaching into your self is like trying to walk on that table of blue, it is not possible, but there is a way. Can you stop the winds or halt the waves? How do you grow and not loose sight of life? There is a beginning and end and all follow this trend. The wind continues the waves too and each can vary but never end. You can see the white caps larger near your sight as you seek them in a distance they are small and turn into a speck, and then there is a simple line that has no movement. Yet you know it never ends. What you see is not always clear, but the palm trees wave and you can hear. Will life ever have meaning? Will the waves ever stop flowing? Who has the answers? You feel the wind hitting your body and sense the spirit searching your inside, it becomes routine and will it be successful is always answered. How do you measure what can’t be seen? What drives the spirit in your body? Can it be real or is it a fine line in the sand? You have the answer, but it might not make sense, but what do you feel deep within yourself? That is who you are. People are the human spirit of the mind.
The thrashing waves upon the sand had a rhythm of life as it pounded the ground. Water plashed with a force that misted the area and at the same time released its energy by washing whatever it hit. The sand is purified; the rocks are masked with either a stream or a spray. This beating is relentless and only the intensity is modified. Walking by the sound captivates your body and soul. Nothing can stop the waves of nature as they reach ever on knowing the power will end, but it never slows or hesitate, for it has no mind or cause to fear, it is always here. The beating sun, waves, and winds are all together as one. You know regardless of age this natural event has forever been in place. Life can change, people will change, but nature is what it has been and no human has the power to demand it act any different.
The sky is blue as the white puffy clouds race over head and gather the winds down on the white sand and palm trees scattered for the protection of mankind. The sky changes with the waves of blue and you cannot feel the sun as it has become modified by the winds.
You sit in time watching what is changing and after minutes, hours and days you realize that nature has not budged, but you have. You can measure change by the winds and ocean waves, but no one measure nature by the same system. Time has no value for the waves, the winds, is it day or night; it is what it has been through creation. You know these winds circle the globe and never end. Sometimes you call it a friend and at times it is you enemy, but it never ends. There is no beginning or will it ever end. I would guess that it would be best to make it your friend.
You rest and wonder what all this could mean and there is no answer, only your life has a beginning and it will end. Or do you become a part of the endless wind that goes around without an end? No man has the answer because nature is supreme and there is no spokesman that can be seen. So why not continue and become serene, what it is has always been and you are only invited for this scene. For you there is a beginning and an end, but will it make a difference will never be seen.
The waves continue their endless search moving ever on ward across this scene. The sound of yellow, green and brown palm stocks wave across the sky generating their contribution of what is music of nature and the sound is real. The sound is wind depended and with all this a tune comes out that blends with the waves hitting the sand and rocks. Once the rhythm is complete you know how it can be, no one hears, but it is there. Maybe no one cares, but it is. Will it ever be different or change? Not to worry it is what has been set by a greater force then we know or can understand. Father sky, Mother Earth has been professed by the Native American culture as real, so be it said.
A day with the hiding sun as the gray white clouds covers the spotty blue. With the endless breeze and hidden sun it still is cool as the brief rain made it humid and clean. The ocean top is like broken glass covering what the sun sees and the blue though hidden is still in place. The choppy waves have the ability to still form whitecaps and push themselves onward toward that land form. The breezes are reduced and the sound of palm trees playing a different tune ands with it comes the sound overhead of birds that normally would not be heard.
The afternoon sun is mild and has that reduced power, but never becomes weak, only modified. That dark pencil line on the horizon is now like a silver lining. As different as it looks there still is no end. A thousand little sparks cover the ocean blue; it has another form of what nature can offer to all that chose to see. You know nothing has changed, only what your mind eyes sees and it could be that is real or could all this be a dream?
The palm leaves or stems hang over the trunk like the picture you would perceive. The green is gradually losing out to the yellow and then brown. As the winds increase so does the blue sky and with that begins to control what it has gained. Yet the white clouds continue moving and changing always in different shapes. Some are puffy, some are grouped, some are faint and form a thin mass that covers the bulk of the background where there is no way of seeing what has happened or what will. So you sit in the wind and the cool air waiting for what we see or what we think we see it is life.
The day and afternoon gets brighter and the sun hovers over the top and is moving down. The shadows move covering different sections of the white sand.
The sea is never under a shadow until that blanket returns called night. As the waves rush towards the shadows some combine and are no more, yet the power is never lost. You sit and wonder how fast time passes and it still stays the same. What can be said or written that has never been said or written before? The water stays where it is, but the waves move only on the top. You feel the energy move from within; like a dynamo without power and it has momentum everlasting like it was meant to be without asking.
A warm but comfortable summer day sitting here in the cove of what is not what could have been. It’s neither the beginning nor the end. I would guess we all live within a time line called life. Does it move forward or will it ever move back? Does the water ever stop moving or the sky changing? That is the answer and most can never accept what it means, but once you sit and look out as far as you can see there is no end, but you can only see what you feel is the end.
Each person sees what they feel, but can they accept what is real? For every beginning there is an end, but we can never know when it will end. So knowing that, what do you see as you look straight out into the sea? Is it your beginning or is it the end? We are all in this together and time is our only friend, but we are not its master because it knows when it will end. You wonder day after day until that one final time when the water stops.
As the sun blinds the horizon you can not see, only the brightness, but you know what you have seen before. Why is that not clear? Are you expecting what was before or are you just concerned that it will not return? Deep inside you know what gas been and it will be again. You can be blinded by the view and that is the sign of change that is what can be. The beacon of brightness covers the earth and all that moves in front can not be seen, but they are there. The winds keep on blowing, but the sun does not care, it has the power and continues to play, some day stronger, some day weaker, but even when night comes it is out there. You wonder how that can be. Is it for all to see or for me? Time will tell as we sit by the sea.
Resting in Paradise © 2015 Joe Vojt
