I am the ocean. You are absorbed by my depth and my emptiness, but you are too afraid to plunge in deep to discover more about me. You hover in the shallows and say you love my salty tears. You love my waves, you love the unbroken shells I churn out. You are aware of the monsters which lie in my interior, but you make no attempt to endeavor for me to divulge them; you make no attempt to discern them directly in the face which they emerge from. You are blithe in your ignorance, and I encase myself around you as you prance in the beauty you witness at my frothy blue surface and ignore the terrors which you know conceal themselves in my innermost depth. I peck your cheek as I kiss the shoreline, pulling away but always dashing to encounter your existence. You ignore the fact that my titanic lips devour the illumination every night, and I am steered by the ever changing moon. You do not know an abundance about me, but perhaps that is for your own well-being. Intelligence would not be power in this exhibition; knowledge would only drown you into the sable depths of my madness. I am the ocean, and you my dear, are simply a tourist.
I yearn to concentrate on his vehement voice once more, to just cradle his subtle tender hands, perhaps simply enjoy conversing with him regarding the fowls whom hovered above the bird feeder as they danced and caroled their angelic praise. I covet them; to perch on the antique pitted chairs whose legs stood innumerable years supporting our somas. I desire to once more to open his aged downtrodden Holy Writ and scrutinize the Word of God which he clasped dear to his soul. He relished greatly anyone who would pursue Christ’s anecdotes with him. But, now he has advanced in this existence and proceeded to the next. I am sure he will be waiting for our souls to fuse with his once more. I know he is vigilantly observing the well-being of his dearest savored kinsfolk here on this vast earth. He, the man who presently is in nirvana, is my Grandfather.
Author's Note: This is about my grandfather who passed away. I was raised by him, and dearly miss him.