Saturday, July 30, 2011

Front row seat

Today I observe my oldest man-son rest in the sea.  Where do sixteen-year-olds find solace these days?

Sitting solitary on his board, he is hardly alone.  















Gulls soar in formation overhead while ponderous pelicans scour for breakfast and plummet around him.  He has front row tickets to the majesty of Creation, reminded quietly and impressively throughout the show that he is not the Center of it.

Winds and waves shift inexplicably, the magic and mystery that rouses teenage bones from bed at dawn.

















He needs only to rise, to be, to wait with patience, and enjoy.














No comments:

Post a Comment