the ocean

what a beautiful yet complex thing, the ocean.
at first glance it’s just a body of water,
a single shade, and the sound of waves.

but as i spend more time in it,
i realize how so many forces go into
its very existence.

restless
as gravity and the winds
create its currents;

alive and breathing
as the forces of the sun and moon
allow the rise and fall of its tides.

it moves,
it flows,
and it keeps going.

the countryside

it was a quarter past 6,
and dinner just ended.
the boys and i slipped out the building
to breathe in some fresh air.
all around us
were trees and fields that stretched out
until our eyes could see.
we walked along an uphill path
with no particular destination in mind.
i looked back,
and i could see the gothic facades
getting smaller and smaller.
at the top of the hill,
we could see everything
and nothing.
we sat on the grass,
passed some cigarettes,
and looked at the horizon.
as moments passed,
the colors of the sky got closer
to a warm tone resembling a persimmon’s skin.
we sat there quietly
watching the sun set into the line of trees.
i remember this memory vividly.
in that moment,
i took a deep breath
and wished that our time there could last forever.

— a weight was lifted from my shoulders

Amaya

Water, in all its forms, speaks to me in different ways,

in ways that words will never be able to give justice to.
It ignites something in me that I thought was long gone.
It pulls my entire being back to where it has to be.
And for some apparent reason, though I am floating in the middle of the ocean or moving against its current, in those moments, I have never felt more grounded.

The water always feels right.

Soft rain— when I barely feel it touching my skin and all that it is is a soft touch that resembles a tickle, a gentle reminder of something sweet and good.
Thunderstorms— when strong wind, a heavy pour, and continuous loud thunder partner, this is when my heart beats faster and faster, my eyes widen, and suddenly I find myself more aware of my surroundings.
Waves off the shore— when the remnants of something that was once so strong is brought right before me.
Waves breaking— when I find myself battling out at sea to stay up, only to be washed out, but in the end, I rise back up and feel that full breath of air in my chest.

The ocean has a lot to say, and so does the rain. The ocean is gentle in the way it settles, allowing me to close my eyes and take it all in. And just when I’ve taken that breath, it riles me back up and urges me to keep moving. The water is a reminder that I am alive, that I am both strong and weak, and that I have it in me to rise and beat the odds.

So when the waves or the raindrops finally speak to you,
I hope that in that moment,
your mind is at peace,
and your heart is in the right place.
Just enough for you to accept what it has to say,
to breathe it in and live in it.