A solemn tear gathered in the corner of my sea-green eye like water rippling on an ocean, scarring its peace. The strange thing about the ocean is that only when you see the whole body of it can you see the true olive-green color of the sea. But if you steal a part away from it and gaze deep into it all you see is yourself staring into a reflecting pool of water. I am an ocean.

My emotions were churning and mixing in a swirl of uncertainty. Each one bit and tore the other, but still I remained one. I was the ocean wave that attacked the grainy shore. Breaking myself into millions of airy white bubbles but recollecting the broken parts, gathering my soul. Just like the ocean.

It was a midnight hour with the moon hanging aloft in the sky with millions of star bits piercing the black velvet of night. The golden glow of the moon reflected off my face, its light a guidance to my eyes. Creatures swam on all surfaces of my being. All were touched by the iridescent moon; all were touched by the soft yellow light. All but one, my infinite soul. Just like the ocean.

And in the darkness a single drop of water destroyed the placidness. From the long standing pool of water grew a soft ripple. And the ripple moved slowly and carefully, only treading where its energy would lead it, never buckling to death, never crashing to a wall, but silently traveling. Then without warning the ripple of thought and emotion grew and rose to a monstrous wave and glared down into my soul, and I was petrified. For inside me, my emotions had taken shape in my soul becoming a wave to break itself upon my spirit, and the moonlight did not see.

As the moonlight reflected off my face and my pale skin radiated with a shimmering serenity, the tear which had lingered on my eye for a long moment stirred and dropped to the floor. And while the tear fell and let go of my eye lashes, dropping to its death, the wave in my darkness knocked against my soul and I whimpered a soft whine. For at that moment, I was alone in my mind. Left with nothing else to hold onto but myself. I had been abandoned. A single ship lost in a winter\'s storm.

I was the lone standing ocean, given many names but still being one. I was the infinite mystery, but never with company. I was the body that held millions of lives, yet none for me. I was a single creature, a single being, just like the ocean.

I was the ocean that lay across the land. I watched from the horizon, my legs bent and arched as half my body was over the hill, and the other half still behind it, but I faced toward the meadow with a wicked stagnancy behind me. I ran my hand to the edge of the soil and scooped it into my palm. I sifted it through my fingers. The particles fell as one, dancing in couples across the wind until they passed to sleep once more on the bodies of their comrades.

I gazed at the flowers as they skulked close to the ground. It was as if they were afraid to turn their soft blue petals away from the soil which nurtured them, for if they left the sight of it for one moment, it would disappear, forever leaving them alone. Or perhaps they feared the shifting winds which snaked through the free blowing stems of their fellow blossoms.

Two squirrels ran together, rolling and flipping through the meadows and sniffing each other with their twitching noses and acorn full cheeks. They pawed at each others faces, lying among the blooming daisies while holding close to the other and the subtle earth.

The flowers watched in awe as the tussles of fur intertwined themselves amongst one another, trying to pull themselves through their friend’s entity. And as all seemed peaceful, as all seemed correct and pleasant in life, a thought grew and multiplied in my mind clinging on it like the invisible