THE WINTER SUN
On this island the winter sun rises slowly as if reluctant to wake from a sleep that lasted so long.The sea waits calmly its gentle soundless waves a contrition for the howling stormy night.Gulls sit patiently upon an offering from that contrite ocean they gaze towards the shore whispering about the coming morning.Everywhere is expectation.And then she comes from behind the banished gloomy clouds reflecting upon the sea illuminating darkened landscapes dazzling eyes that look forever at the horizon.And I am hereand like the fishermen that hopefully cast their nets I cast my thoughts in the hope of catching a dream of catching a glimpse of the world I love a world I sometimes forget.I walk along the shore surveying the storms destruction but the sun is forgiving so I close my eyes.I can see my Mothers dark eyes smiling.I can see my Fathers red of face.I walk among the tattered remains of other life far away. The remnants of a child’s shoe; an empty bottle the pleasure long gone; the carcass of a fish its eyes open wide in fear.I build a sand castle near the water’s edge. I am a child again.The night has gone. The storm has gone. The sea is calm. The sun has awakened the world.I laugh out loud. I am happy.