Colorshow

I don't think I could possibly be more in love with the place that I live in right now.

I wish I could convey exactly what it means to me to be able to walk out my door every day and be greeted by the ocean stretching before me, or to be able to write this and all my other thoughts sitting on a sandy log, staring at the surging, swelling force a few feet in front of me.  Alas, the words, for once, don't come easily.

That entity, that being, that life-force, the ocean, is the greatest love of my earthly life.

Today my love is grey.  He twists and barrels and angrily beats against the shore.  Frothy and furious.  I sit quietly and listen to his battle cry.  The roar of a thousand waves rolling in, harmoniously voicing their pain and resolution to forget the wrongs they've done.

Even in anger and wrath my love is dignified.  He is regal and I respect him.  I admire his power, his command. He is the officer of innumerable battalions of frozen, colorless, overwhelming murderers.  I am struck with a consuming fear, yet even as I tremble and retreat to higher ground, I am filled with inescapable reverence and awe.  I turn my head over my shoulder quickly, unable to look away.

  He is my Sodom and Gomorrah.  I am a pillar of salt.

Such is the power of his aggression and danger over me.

Some days my love is blue.

He is calm.  His battle cry is done away with.  He purrs thunderously, like a gargantuan feline, sleepy and full of ambrosia and milk.

He is beautiful and striking and I am made giddy with love, drunk off happiness.  I twirl and leap and sing songs of praise to the Creator who has made my love for me.  In which He has mirrored so much of His divine sovereignty and majesty.  God smiles upon my love no matter what the weather.  In turn my love smiles blue at me, and tickles my toes playfully.  I shriek and laugh.

He whispers my name and my heart stops.

My favorite days are when my love is green.

Those days I have come to find are rarer than most.  When my love is green, all is right in my small but turbulent world.

I am comforted beyond measure by that deep, oceanic emerald hue that shines and sparkles whether in sunlight or clouded haze.

The waves are always monumental, but they are quiet.  They are almost transparent- I find myself straining to gaze through them into that mysterious, mythological water world beyond the walls of seafoam and S-barrels.

There is a mischievous twinkle in my love's midst when he is green.  As if to say,  "Keep your eyes on me.  You never know what I will bring to you."

Often on these days, he brings me love.  Not the joyous, delirious kind.  Instead, the deeply rooted, encircling, soul-speaking kind of love.

He also brings dreams to me on days of emerald and tide pool.

Dreams of future, dreams of present.  Memories of fire and ash he leaves for days of grey, not to besmirch the bounty of hope brought on green days.

My favorite things that my love brings to me on these days are messages.

He is a messenger of hope, an ambassador of love and dreams and wishes.  When I find myself playing near the water's edge on days of green,  he sends me greetings.  Greetings and whispers from loved ones, from strangers, from future selves, from angels, from God.

Whispers and wishes and directions and hopes, inspirations, secrets.

What do I do with these ethereal blessings?  I close my eyes, prepare a few words, and I send them right back.

And so, if you are around a watery manifestation of my love, and you feel you have received one of these messages of light and warmth, be comforted in the knowledge that I have sent them on the fins of Poseidon's mermaids with great haste and love.

If you are not around water, and you still feel these beacons surrounding you, let it be known that the messages continue on the wings of angels, with great godspeed.

I'm waiting for your reply, always.

I love you, love you, I love you.

Goodbye.