Walburga Retreat, Ventnor, NJ 2017 |
When you awoke, it was as if none of that ever happened. As
if the world was a uniquely pleasant place; constant and reliable. The
inability to see the horizon moved your imagination to a post of tranquility.
Memories of the incurable city no longer haunted you. By stepping back from the
world into a clean, calm place where people sympathized, the transport shaped
easy navigation. It was as if a grand fairy tale appeared unannounced. Where
nightmares were charmed by a protective mist of affection. Gone were the
oppressive battlements of an unenthusiastic family. Gone were your personal
failings. Instead arose a realm of delightful possibilities. There was nothing
to fear. No one to avoid. All it took was the serene vastness of the sea. A
roaring lullaby. Friendly faces who took the time to converge. Such a quotient
of effectiveness allowed a startling reversal of being. A space full of
devotion. Relaxing, unencumbered.
The foggy substance blotted little cruelties,
precipitation anointing the day with sublimity. You knew who you were. Safety
arranged inner quiet. Without ghosts, without judgement, without disharmony.
Life’s trail routed circuitously coming to a stop. Turbulence dispelled. You
reverted to a moment before beastly contents splattered your essence in every
direction. All calamity wiped away. Freshened by morning dew, the rain and wind
lapped tarnished sand. A continual cacophony from the beginning of time,
concerned only with rewriting the story.
An ever-turning planet, as misused as it is, laid its
eternal truth to disengage the troubling self. Could it be that simple, you
wonder? That in a certain time, at such and such a place, your life began anew.
Hope intact. In this moment, somewhat
particular since you had been here before, a swath of path laid clear through
the landscape. Lessons were learned. A destiny rerouted. Free from the grief of
living to a desirable future where cohesive interactions revealed themselves.
Tactility, sensation configured anew. You arose to begin again along a new mode
of sufficiency where conviviality was the game. The closed doors of exclusivity
no longer matter. Competitive nuances relinquished for hospitable loveliness.
Oh, here where the spirit runs free and the creative juices flow uninhibited by
rules of another house. You glide along familiar halls. The prerequisites
forgotten. Another age, simple in its desires, triumphant. The coastal air
fills the lungs, the eternal sea, though dirtier than you remember, stays
constant. It lulls. It instructs. Its presence as liquid as a millennium.
Before civilization and its discontents bellowed oceanic voices to lead the day
to disaster. The night coalesced with the moon. All the technology in the world
cannot diminish, try as it will.
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