At the End of the Dock

 

In the last several weeks, I have traveled south then north and finally ended up here at the end of the dock. Writing comes in spurts and short sentences. The dragonfly lands, mute. Stares. He knows. Tiny waves, the rise in the wind, the birds around me: it’s all there. All I have to do is listen.

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6 Replies to “At the End of the Dock”

  1. Your words are wonderful, and the sounds of nature in that peaceful setting speak to my soul. Beautiful, my friend!

  2. Aaahhhh…. lie back, close your eyes, let the sun soak into you, smell the water and the wood and the woods, listen, feel, breathe. This is lovely, Christi. Thank you!

    1. Listen, feel, breathe. Exactly right, Karen. There’s just something about sitting near open water with the woods behind you that encourages simple meditations.

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