Short Story: The Song of the Sea

My feet sinking into the forgiving sands of a cold, pacific beach, I pause, setting my eyes upon the vast horizon. Like turrets of a mighty castle, the distant clouds raise their massive white plumes into the striking bright blue of the sky. As I gaze out over the ocean, a dark, waving carpet of mystery, by contrast to the sands and the clouds or even the sky, it is black, the wind gently dances up to me, playfully buffeting my jacket, and with the tender touches of the cooling breeze, a whisper enters my ear.

Carried here to me, I hear it, listening enwrapped to the voice as one is enwrapped by music. How softly it speaks, how distant it sounds, but enveloping, enchanting. Oh! I can barely hear it, but it’s there, in that ocean breeze.

The wind passes on, and I’m left standing in the sand, my toes hidden under the uncountable grains.

The ocean, dark below the sky,
let me know its whispered sigh,
and so I thought that I might die
hearing the beauty of its cry.