Wanderlust
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, meditating and drifting away to the lullaby of the ocean. The waves gently clap against the shore as the seagulls take to the sky forming letters of the alphabet with every flap of their wings. The clouds are dim white puffs in an otherwise endless azure sky. The sun’s amber halo is setting on the sea as the gentle wind meets the swaying palm trees and the rhythm of paradise is all around me. A small sailboat is gently propelled by the wind, another dreamer journeying the sea. The ocean breeze, its briny breath, leaves a hint of salt on my lips. As the waves roll in with their bubbling froth, a trail of seashells is scattered at my feet. Each shell was perfect, a sonnet of the sea, echoing a tale of the creature it once sheltered. Out there in the vastness of nirvana, the ocean is alive with infinite motion. When I close my eyes, wanderlust dream is the passport of my imagination.
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