story in a photo #4

the wind pushes and pulls the water

and a lighthouse stands at the bottom of a cliff

guiding whomsoever wishes to follow its light.

a sail lets the wind push and pull the boat,

almost relinquishing control.

but what happens when the wind stops?

feelings of unease?

heat in the absence of cold?

frustration, 

towards the lack of energy that once moved the sail in all directions. 

we blame the burning heat of the sun, but miss it when its gone

we blame the moon and stars that guide us

we blame the very water that carries us

we resort to blaming the wind itself, 

for giving us a false sense of freedom. 

(why push these sails forward 

when you were bound to stop eventually)

a bird on top of the cliff watches the scene unfold

it prepares to lift off

ready to soar flapping its wings

not waiting for the wind to carry it, 

knowing with certainty 

its body will move further, higher.

and just as oars begin to push the boat closer to land, 

the wind returns pushing the boat closer to its destination. 

the wind pushes and pulls the water

and the lighthouse guides whomsoever wishes to follow its light

guiding them all back to land.