A bird rests quietly upon a cliff side.
It ponders life.
It ponders meaning.
It rests its wings, dreaming…
Dreaming of what lies beyond
the ocean waves.
Those tempestuous waves…
do they too dream of peace?
Do they ever cease,
or crave a sweet release?
As the sun retreats from the sky,
the bird settles down to sleep.
…
Waves collide against the edge
of a quiet cliff side.
Gentle waves.
Violent waves.
Peaceful days.
Rough days.
The ocean persists.
It cares not if the bird exists.
It knows not why it beats against the cliff.
It simply does.
It simply is.
Tyler DeWriter 