Behold! A King is born.

At night, the scorching sun, that over powers the air and is slave to no one but its glorious magnificence, is fast asleep.
It is only then, in its absence, that the sea dares to become king.
The waves roll higher and crash louder. They command an authority previously etiolated by their secondary role to the sun. All the while, the infinite vastness of the canvas that is the sky, has been reduced to a mere spectator adorned with stars. It is a thick blanket with just enough holes in it to allow the vivid light of heaven to shine through.
The sand, previously hard at work to stay grounded, succumbs to an evening of dancing inspired by a saucier, cheekier, rhythm divine produced by the waves. The air an assistant and carrier of the amplified sound through the cool night air. The sand mingles with seashells and welcomes all that has fallen from the glorious new king’s grace.
Awakened by all the chaos, the sun stretches its rays of light. Forcing the night blue sky to morph into a spectrum of color as a form of remorse for its poor behavior. The sun expels the moon and beseeches it to return when it is summoned once again at sunset. The order of the day that was once abandoned by all except the sleeping sun is now restored.

Off the rocker

Its easier to count time when you’re on the beat.. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and…
My newest fetish is Billy talent’s suffering… I heard it once and for the life of me couldn’t figure out what the appeal was…
The lyrics are the usual teen melodrama and the tune not at all that catchy…
But then as I was humming the tune and tapping my hand on the side of my car out of the window it occurred to me! I was thin slicing, as Malcom Gladwell puts it.
My brain was drowning out the words and the fact that the lead singer doesn’t have much of a voice and was captivated by the off beats!
There’s never enough music based on the offbeat!
And often enough, if it’s done inappropriately the listener is left feeling like the melody is rushed or like someone missed a queue somewhere.
So I must give it to them!
Billy might just have some talent after all.

Who am I

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
~Marianne Williamson~

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance... our long way home.
I was always yours to have. You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
God...how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out of time. ~Maya Angelou~

Cuba..... Que Linda.....

I indulge in the glory of now. There is a serenity comfortably grounded at the bottom of my soul. the warm water caresses my feet and tickles my toes. The surf brings with it random thoughts that....

manifest...

linger...

digress...

and manifest again..

lingering just long enough for the water to surround my ankles gently reminding me to let go.

The regression of each and every wave allows for the rebirth of a new thought.... they take with them my meanderings and the traces of the foot steps that once painted my momentary existence on the shore.

A symphony of sound that begins and ends with the breaking of a wave and crescendos with the collision of water upon water.

A rushing towards the shore.....

a subtler retreat and

another crash of water. Every cycle brings with it a new beginning and a brand new clean slate. An opportunity to reinvent myself with more footsteps..... a momentary existence. A re emergence of a different me.

The collision of water upon water again..

a rushing towards the shore...

the eradication of my fluid presence

a subtle retreat.....

and another crash of water.