I am an ocean.
My soul is the tide. It ebbs and it flows.
It goes rushing out to meet the edge of the shore and then it draws back into the heart of the sea.
I like the comfort of the shoreline. It's where the people gather. They come to frolic, to play, to see the sunrise, the sunset, to feel the sand and sea lapping up on their feet. They come to think, to talk, to pray, to listen, to picnic, to rest, to be. It's where I long to stay.
When the tide comes in it's like the ocean's arms reach and reach and reach to see how far it can penetrate the shoreline. My heart reaches to touch the life that is there. To capture it. To frame it. To remember it. To grasp it.
But I am an ocean. And my soul is the tide.
So the waters of my heart are drawn back out to the deep. Where it is dark and cold. And though the sun shines over the deep, it casts a different light. It doesn't glisten and bounce and reflect the way it does on the shoreline. It often feels like a fiercely penetrating heat. Sometimes it just doesn't get hot enough--hidden too far under clouds or smothered by the wind.
I am an ocean.
If I don't visit the deep, I have no water to gather up to reach, reach, reach to the shoreline again.
And if I live on the shoreline, I am no ocean. I have no waves. The life that I love on the shoreline does not exist without the ebb and flow of the tide. The waters become stagnant, diseased, dirty and eventually avoided. The shoreline will be alone. Like the dark and the deep.
I am an ocean. I ebb and I flow.
The sun shines over the deep and the shoreline. It shines when it rains, when it burns, when it warms and when it pierces.
I am an ocean. My heart is the tide.