Minutes on the Coast

At land's end, the gray industrial sky retreated as I lay on the cliffs of old rusted earth. 

Momentary disturbances from mankind's modern machines faded gradually to the persistence of crashing green waves as they ended one journey......then back out to sea.

The prickling protrusions of warm golden rays, broke through the gloom of silvery gray. The winds I could hear as they tickled my ears as waves were pounding the ocean's good cheer.

Odors in mists, the sirens of gulls, close there beside me on rocks of clay, they gathered to chatter to eat and to play.  

I opened my eyes to a three-layered-screen with turquoise, emerald, and a carpet of green. Winged foul above me coasting on currents of air, a frolicking glide, some hide below me in tune with the tide. 

Upon granite cliffs I perched on the Watchtower of Endless Seas while I listened to the waves that the wind brought to me. 

                                                      

Under the surface the rustling green trees groped for the sky and its sun, through nature's direction they reached up to see.

Above me there's movement large and small and like tiny black locusts they rise and they fall. A rhythmic clapping, their wings in the air, they ride in formation without even a care.

On towards forever the sea rises and falls with tides from the moon, yet later returns to rocky lagoons.

Gary Bryant