I don't know the name of this beach. All I'd have to do is look it up I'm sure. But really the name is meaningless. it's just a thing man has tried to attach to this place. Just like man tries to attach things to all places. Things of his own making. Rather like he attached those monstrous hotels to this island. Paradise, indeed this was. Still is, out here by the sea. In there though, it's not like this. A casino? Little men and little women, going frantic over little (no matter how large in sum) money. They should be out here, living.
I'm writing by moonlight for the first (and I pray not only) time in my life. The clearness of the sky here is astounding. The night sky actually has form and detail here, just like daylight. I don't think I've ever truly understood the sea until today. or I did but didn't realize I did. Very alike, the sky and the sea. Not for nothing were pirates drawn to its seemingly boundless surface. Truly freedom is to be had at sea, and the shores are its gateway. It's a beautiful place in the day, but for me, it truly speaks for my inner soul at night.
Tolkien wrote truth when he aligned the elves with nighttime and the stars,with Ithil, the moon. For only at night does memory truly come alive, memory and imagination. One does feel ever so truly insignificant and trivial when faced with the heavens, the stars, Ithil, and the sea simultaneously. What is there but the smell of the sea, the feel of the breeze, the white sand under the silver moon? All the trials of life are fully worthwhile for this. That this moment, this ethereal, ever-flowing, effervescent moment should be, however fleeting. I wouldn't have thought I'd find a holy place of nature at a resort. Of course I'm also far away from where the resort people intended I should be at this time. They'd rather I was off on the marina spending money. Or making money for them rather. The beach is closed after all. I should be gambling or drinking. Or watching some fucking movie with famous fucking people in it, about some irrelevant garbage. Don't get me wrong here, there have been some great movies.
But Even the great ones, what are they in comparison to the rolling sapphire waves, topped in quicksilver that currently surround me? What are they to the immortal breath of the sea flowing into my body? Sitting here, pen and notebook in hand is doing more for my soul than 1000 movies ever could. Makes me think about love. I've been caught up, for months now, over the loss of my love, once my best friend. The failure of something that was once the most certain thing in my life...
I'm writing by moonlight for the first (and I pray not only) time in my life. The clearness of the sky here is astounding. The night sky actually has form and detail here, just like daylight. I don't think I've ever truly understood the sea until today. or I did but didn't realize I did. Very alike, the sky and the sea. Not for nothing were pirates drawn to its seemingly boundless surface. Truly freedom is to be had at sea, and the shores are its gateway. It's a beautiful place in the day, but for me, it truly speaks for my inner soul at night.
Tolkien wrote truth when he aligned the elves with nighttime and the stars,with Ithil, the moon. For only at night does memory truly come alive, memory and imagination. One does feel ever so truly insignificant and trivial when faced with the heavens, the stars, Ithil, and the sea simultaneously. What is there but the smell of the sea, the feel of the breeze, the white sand under the silver moon? All the trials of life are fully worthwhile for this. That this moment, this ethereal, ever-flowing, effervescent moment should be, however fleeting. I wouldn't have thought I'd find a holy place of nature at a resort. Of course I'm also far away from where the resort people intended I should be at this time. They'd rather I was off on the marina spending money. Or making money for them rather. The beach is closed after all. I should be gambling or drinking. Or watching some fucking movie with famous fucking people in it, about some irrelevant garbage. Don't get me wrong here, there have been some great movies.
But Even the great ones, what are they in comparison to the rolling sapphire waves, topped in quicksilver that currently surround me? What are they to the immortal breath of the sea flowing into my body? Sitting here, pen and notebook in hand is doing more for my soul than 1000 movies ever could. Makes me think about love. I've been caught up, for months now, over the loss of my love, once my best friend. The failure of something that was once the most certain thing in my life...
This sea was rolling in then, it's rolling in now, and it will continue to roll in after my death, a mere drop in the bucket from now. Many have been born, lived, loved, and died, and still the sea rolls on, the moon reflects sunlight and somewhere, someone is smiling at it. I believe I will find love again. Whether far or soon is nothing. The sea rolls on.
The ethereal everflowing effervescent moment.
Turquoise waves whipped to white froth
Land upon stones, weathered and aged
beneath the moon and stars.
Deep indigo sky, moon of pearl.
The roar and whispers of the sae, the feathering touch of the wind,
billowing around my solitary promontory
Here am I
Saying to it all
welcome.
We still remember, we who dwell beneath the trees, the starlight on the western seas.
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