Beachside Stroll ~ Daeni PinoAnd it begins. The pacing, hands on hips, walking from room to room. The mind racing, thoughts and ideas tumbling one after the other. Impatience under the skin. Walking outside to sit and read only to put the book down after a few minutes, unable to quiet the mind enough to concentrate. Up again for a stop at the desk, straighten papers, check mail, sit stand walk. Keeping the hands busy with the inconsequential. Taking out a journal and pen and beginning to write. What is it, this
IS IT A PLACE?
A new postcard. Aromas/sounds. Sun/sand/sea. A different view of the sky from land the feet haven’t touched as yet. Cities and landscapes only seen in dreams. A provocative glimpse of the exotic, the unknown, the yet-to-be-discovered.
IS IT A THING?
An unwritten book calling insistently. A change in lifestyle. A letting go of those things that have let go of you. A dreaded task. An acceptance of what cannot be changed. Losses from which to recover and heal.
IS IT A PERSON?
A wished-for sound of a laugh. An unseen smile. A voice unheard, with a cadence only imagined. The soul behind dark eyes. The feel of a hand within a hand, skin on skin. The shape of a face, a look, a whisper.