The Islands We Made
My Island
I used to think it was nice to just sit on the sand, listen to the waves, enjoy the sunshine and wonder what the day would hold. Lovely to think about. I’ve realized now that those things which I thought were wonderful and nice, just really aren’t that great anymore. My island is lonely. There’s a few animals on it and some plants. A small paradise. That’s if you’re into that kind of thing. But what is paradise when you don’t have someone to spend it with? I often pull out my telescope and point it in your direction of your own personal island to see what you are up too. I send out smoke signals to get your attention, but you never reply. I even thought about sending a note in a bottle with just the words “I miss you” written on it, but then it struck me that the waves would take it away. It would never get to you and if it did, I doubt you would respond.
So I just sit here on MY ISLAND wondering what you are doing on yours. Wondering if you’re daydreaming about me like I do about you. Of course you’re not. I hear celebrations coming from your sandy beaches. I wish I could join you in the celebration, but I guess the invitation got lost in the mail. Oh well. At least I have the symphony of the waves washing on the shore and the occasional pink or purple seashell buried in the sand. I look on the bright side, because looking on the dark side would require a flashlight…
