near the waters’ edge
ever closer to the point were the ocean
touches souls
where the sand is hard and soft
the breeze is refreshingly salty
and the birds skitter in and out of the surf
in a dance with the water
always keeping their eye on the prize
they call lunch
a heart could get lost here
or found soothed to the rhythm of the waves
ever present in the moment as nature speaks her language
gently to the soul the heart the essence
