beauty caveBreathtaking.
I see myself, standing on that rock,
breathing the ancient air,
while the gentle lap of water call out to me,
sharp with the tang of mineral and darkness.

I breath,
and close my eyes,
listening to the voices of the ancient,
whispering on the wind.

My soul clears.


I am most certainly not a poet, so please don’t laugh too hard. To tell you the truth, I feel rather odd posting this, but I simply have to. I came upon this photo from National Geographic and it called out to me. It is so amazingly beautiful. When I close my eyes, I can almost smell the water, the cold cave walls, the greenery. I want to be there, to touch the stone, to drink the water and to simply lie back and feel the breath of the Earth under my back.

Though I have no idea where this is, I want to be there. The need is almost visceral – a sharp pain that takes away my breath. Have I been there before, in another life, sitting still in the darkness, as twilight descends and the night creatures wake from their sleep?

So much beauty in the world. And we, ant-like humans, scurrying about our days, foraging for food, for shelter, for sex. We are blind. Blind to the beauty all around us, consuming and consuming until naught else is left.

I want to know this place. To walk its dark corners, to breath its air and feel its rocky bones. To walk that ancient spot, to move into that silence. To become what I never was. To throw off the pain, the sorrow. To simply be.