For James
Sometimes the ugliness of this world is too loud.
I now understand, how such feelings weighed heavy on my father in later years.
When he was younger, he didn’t dwell on things. We survive by not dwelling on hopeless things.
But, as you get a little older, year by year… the tide swells around you. And the walk back over the nearshore feels like wading through quicksand.
And your eyes fix on hills balanced on the horizon. Distant but reachable – If you can only keep moving. Sleepwalking.
Ignoring the surf chuckling and hissing around you, you strive forward.
For if you can get to those hills and rest long enough to watch the sunset… everything will be fine.
The red sun will burn into the cold darkness and moonlight will appear from the ashes and surf, and you’ll float to the centre of everything and somehow the universe will once again be beautiful.