Trailing Stories

Whatever we think ripples out into the universe. Just as the sea surges over rocks and streams and tumbles back into the ocean, trailing reminders of its journey. So too our thoughts, the out and back in, the times when the thoughts become too many, too messy, and those other times, perhaps more peaceful, calming.

The sea’s often wild along this coast. Big swells surging in, insistent, enveloping.

Those times I stand back from a safe distance, dwell awhile, breathe with the rhythm of it all, remember, too, that we think and do impacts not only now but the future.

After all, one day we will be the ancestors.

Once that thought would have added to the burdened way I might think, when worry was the norm. These day, thinking that I will be an ancestor to someone in the future, I find it liberating. It encourages me to think freer, gentler, in a quiet way, more determinedly.

Ripples again, currents trailing stories.

About bydda88

I love poetry, writing, especially writing as healing, as touching the sacred, being touched. And place, places dreaming us, us them. Coasts, rivers, canyons; the ordinary things too, the small things, gestures that reach out.
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