Time and Tide

Somewhere along the perimeter of a continent, where

water caresses the land, two worlds collide. The beach

extends beyond sight, unbounded and free, showcasing

a familiar range of rocky slopes, lush grasses, and sandy

dunes descending into an unknown world. Waves

explode upon contact with the sand, creeping up the

shore, swiping souvenirs from the land. A rhythm

is set by the continuous tide as it pounds the Earth,

erasing all evidence of life.

The sharp cries of children and the

squawking of gulls resonate in the air, though

nothing so prominent as the steady pulse of the sea

from the inside of a shell. A breathtaking landscape

of soft sea foam lingering along the edges of the open

ocean, a world where God’s creatures swim free, where

dorsal fins peek through the surface of the water and

then vanish, where white sails dance across a giant

blue canvas.

Reality builds momentum over time, only to come

toppling down, like the sea upon the shore, sometimes

in a series of gentle ripples, sometimes in a single blow,

a devastating tsunami. A sea of love holds fragile dreams

that break with every crashing wave, leaving shards of

glass within the soft sediment as remains. In time, the

pain recedes, recycled in an endless current of emotion.

The sandy coastline stretches onward eternally,

undisturbed but for an occasional shell, piece of

driftwood, dismembered bit of seaweed. The sky is

coated with patchy clouds, a monotonous haze,

purple and gray, heavy with moisture, teasing the

Earth with small increments, thin streams of sunlight,

disappearing as quickly as they came.

The tears of humanity accumulate into an ocean of

bitter saltwater, and the heart pulses on in rhythm with

the tide. There is comfort to be found in the warm

grains of sand beneath anxious toes, and the salty air,

nature’s morphine, absorbs the unbearable pains of

life. The world continues turning slowly and as

the tide rolls in, icy water enveloping its prey with a

startling chill, humanity must move on else be

consumed by the sea, forever underwater. 

Crystal Richardson (2010)