Mystical Place Of Meeting

 

About a month ago I was sleeping in a tree. My room at the village of Olon along the Pacific coast of Ecuador was built ten feet off the ground around the trunk of a tree that came through the center of the floor and up through the roof. Ocean waves surged toward me and with but a few steps, I could throw myself into them.

At night, with stillness all around, the sea kissing the shore lulled me to sleep.

Land is a barrier for the sea. And the sea is likewise a barrier to land. They contain each other. The two have made poetry since the beginning of life on earth.

Now I find myself at home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA . . . high among mountain ranges, and far from any ocean. The vast sky kisses the earth in silence. At sunset, the drama where the two meet can be spectacular. Just as the ocean called me to leap in and engage, so the drama of sunsets calls me . . . and I go to witness the mystical place of meeting at the most special of moments.