Traveling Light Years Ahead of Humanity
Where love is profound
I am on an ocean liner. In my mind. Where I can look out over an azure blue Caribbean and see nothing but open water. There are no other ships in sight. It is only me and the unknown.
I lean over the polished brass railing and pause. No one else is on my ship. I am truly alone.
The ship turns ever so slightly as if on cue. I run to the starboard side and look about at all the emptiness, and I am frightened, yet the sea is expansive and I can’t help but marvel at how blue the water is. How gentle her waves.
I am only afraid because this is what I have been told to feel. Curiosity does not come to mind easily, but the fear of being alone does. I have no idea where this ocean liner is taking me. There is no itinerary.
Perhaps one day my ship will dock at a port and I will disembark all smiles and happiness, but for now, my ocean liner is taking me somewhere I have never been. I feel it. I am learning to embrace this unknown. It is all I have. But I am tentative and cautious.
You will say, “Oh, but you have friends and loved ones to travel alongside you.” And yes, I do. I know there are other ships on this beautiful sea. I have known this all my life. They are traveling where they need to go. As am I.