This Morning

I had to get there. Waking early, knowing that I needed the tender coolness of a Maine morning, I sat on my parents small porch. And I found it. In the trees, tall as giants, they shook with a light breeze.  The air was cool, but not unbearable.  It was not the heat of Texas, but on the northern edge of summer; different.  Quiet presence of a place I haven't been in awhile. Water and clean air rode soft and gentle around and with breath in my body. I sat and rested simply aware of my gratitude for this place.
Where do you go to release the demons to find solace. Even wood nymphs know and relinquish.  Perhaps it is the present nature of change. The transitioning potentials that linger for a moment mid way, understanding the beautiful and deadly within and without. Never static, but in it's timeliness eternal.
We live to let go and that is all. We live and release present before uncertainty but change. Breathe and know.
Through the trees I began to see sky. It was the light that caused me to move. Called me to leave my spot among kin and see. The ocean lay still beneath a glowing orb, so bright I could not see it. But only fathomed its beauty.  Clouds allowed better visions, and framed pictures of sea and sky, light and darkness. And the people swarmed to walk its edges. Suited fisherman and surfers licked the edges of the Atlantic aware and unaware of its immensity.  Again for the beauty that surrounds, I am grateful.