Following the waves of the sea

        I waste my time looking upon the waves in the sea. Their movements on the sands of the beaches remind me of a wounded lion licking its wounds after a fight. I imagine the sea is kissing the sands of the beaches because it is missing them. It seems a traveller who arrives at his home after a long trip and embraces his lover who was standing there waiting for him. And he kisses her as if he tried to justify his absence or regrets because he sinned, and apologizes with long words.
        I waste my time hearing the waves in the sea with my closed eyes. They whisper a melody that doesn’t want to stop and follow the same melodic tone. It’s a lament that insists on getting lovers’ attention to attend desires and whims. I imagine that they are beings singing a lullaby on a cotton chair balancing on a porch carrying on dreams of childhood involving lost smiles in the past and going on through time.
        I waste my time looking upon the waves in the sea. They come and go, like phytoliths of an endless movie, and I don’t want to see its end. Because I’m lost in memories of somewhere. Then, the rhythm of this melody beats on the sands like the soundtrack of this movie.
       I waste my time looking upon the waves in the sea. I get hypnotized with the same movement over and over again. It’s an oscillating pendulum drawing on the sands a limit, a caring hand passing slowly to clean them from leaves and impurities. The beaches seem like blank canvas ready for a painter who can put his imagination to create sand castles.
        I waste my time swimming in the waves of the sea. And I feel their sweet and liquid contact on my body. They have got the salt of the earth diluted in the ocean to look for a miracle to wet my tears that are also salty. Who knows the same salt that forges us and after a long life we will go back to the sea toward our origins.
       I waste my time inside the waves of the sea, leaving their waters flowing and carrying me on where they want to go. I’m not concerned about my trip and my body is free to follow this flow because my body no longer belongs to me.
       I look around and I’m lost because life’s movement is totally different from the flow of sea waves. Waves don’t have direction and, at the same time, they are real. Life is different because it forges us through our imaginations. Life doesn’t have waves but corners that scare us. And the sea…, the sea hasn’t got corners only winds that make us free.

Photo from: Foto de Laura Barry na Unsplash 

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