I'm not up on the detection of wind rattling rhythm playing.
I'm here, on the rock... staring at the horizon without
boundaries letting the wind slapped my face repeatedly, enjoying warm sun unites the deepest recesses of the soul
and the waves gently caressing my toes.
I think nothing...
I let it all sink arise following an endless poem of life.
yes, the occasional ripple breaking my reverie. but sometimes
the vortex was like a stunt that serves delicious beauty.
I'm here.
above the towering reef.
and certainly missed being home.
December 2, 2011
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Febby Sahla. Often writes on social networking sites. Lives in Semarang.
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