Incomplete

After years of associating with so much I still find myself isolated - aloof and unexplored. Like an island in a vast ocean that witnesses so many ships passing by. Aliens pacing my grounds with their mundane curiosities, each arriving and leaving at his/her own will.

I witness the calm of the waves and the crying of the seagulls. The hidden realms of the waters seep into my roots. Each storm sweeps away slight dimensions of my existence ... hopes of what could have been. I share with the ocean its depths; it’s yearning to be explored and in my case may be conquered. I offer the darkest secrets of my existence to strangers. I invite abstract reality to discover what I hold within. If only they would dare to search the reality of life in my grounds.

There were times when I felt hope. A feeling of worth and appreciated value. When the winds of the ocean bestowed me with sweet zephyr and my barren lands gave birth to dreams of a better tomorrow. When birds from far way lands brought to me seedlings of abundant opportunity, fragile expressions of life sprouting on my terrain, promising days when my soul would be sheltered from the tyranny of the burning sun. Rain came as a blessing to rinse away from my surface all traces of the despair of a shunned past.