Long ago, in another life, there was a place where the sea, the earth, and the sky met. A place where it was hard to know where the world ended, and heaven began. A place where the sand feels the touch of tiny wavelets that drum a never-ending gentle rhythm, and the stars are the only light that can be seen. On that beach I would wander aimlessly in the dead of night and look out over the Pacific, wondering why I had to be here, in this place, alone... Listening to the echoes of voices ringing clear in my mind, voices reaching out from my memories to haunt the present, now past.
A magical place on a New Zealand shore. Falling stars abounded there, falling in long graceful arcs across that so beautiful southern sky, tearing me apart. I would know, as I wandered, that the horizon held another horizon, and that there were many more horizons between me and where my love lay, in another land I had yet to see.
There was a small jutting of land that extended out, like a long, gnarled finger into the black coolness of the sea. I liked to go out there, to the tip, and gaze. My mind would travel from that spot to the furthest reaches of the universe, and down into the coldest canyons of the oceans. My mind would measure the distances, so very far, yet shortened by the light speed of thought, and leave me stranded on a distant shore. It was while standing on that tiny gnarled finger that I realized my loneliness came from within. Out there in the face of the eternal sea winds I suddenly knew there are no distances, save what we ourselves create. We are connected, each of us, particle by particle, atom by atom, first through the air that surrounds us, and by the earth beneath our feet. We cannot escape that touch, not even beyond the horizon of our last breath. What touches me, touches all... Touches you...
Were that a gentle word could assuage every fear... what a wonderful world this could be... Were that I had the craft to touch just one soul... what a wonderful life this could be...
A magical place on a New Zealand shore. Falling stars abounded there, falling in long graceful arcs across that so beautiful southern sky, tearing me apart. I would know, as I wandered, that the horizon held another horizon, and that there were many more horizons between me and where my love lay, in another land I had yet to see.
There was a small jutting of land that extended out, like a long, gnarled finger into the black coolness of the sea. I liked to go out there, to the tip, and gaze. My mind would travel from that spot to the furthest reaches of the universe, and down into the coldest canyons of the oceans. My mind would measure the distances, so very far, yet shortened by the light speed of thought, and leave me stranded on a distant shore. It was while standing on that tiny gnarled finger that I realized my loneliness came from within. Out there in the face of the eternal sea winds I suddenly knew there are no distances, save what we ourselves create. We are connected, each of us, particle by particle, atom by atom, first through the air that surrounds us, and by the earth beneath our feet. We cannot escape that touch, not even beyond the horizon of our last breath. What touches me, touches all... Touches you...
Were that a gentle word could assuage every fear... what a wonderful world this could be... Were that I had the craft to touch just one soul... what a wonderful life this could be...
