Writing On The Dock Of The Bay
You find yourself sitting on a bench along the waterfront, swinging your legs. You look down and see a face in the rocks. You wonder how that face got there, and maybe how you got there too. And you think, I couldn’t have done it any better if I’d tried to make a face on that rock myself. You think of all the times you’ve tried and failed or messed things up. And then, all the times you let it flow. As the tide goes out you think about the bittersweet melancholy of loss but don’t dwell, and you look at the girl sitting next to you on that bench and you are flooded with feeling for her. And you realize as you both swing your legs on that bench along the rocky shore by the docks, that you are lucky to have her, lucky to appreciate what you have this very moment and not dwell on the things you don’t, lucky to have seen that rock with the face today, smiling at you like someone wise from your past, with a view now, from the other side.