They are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but sea. (Sir Francis Bacon)

Waves crash about- roaring silently, colliding against themselves and unseen lands: beneath, below and beyond perception.  How trying it is to navigate such uncharted territories- when obstacles arise without warning, without heed and threaten to bash your very being with their solidity.  I wonder sometimes how much one can truly take in any given moment, when really we are such fragile creatures.  

There is knowing in Tragedy.  There is knowing in Death.  There is knowing in Birth.  There is knowing in Exaltation.  There is understanding in those delicate existences, when one chooses to truly witness it.  How small our bodies, how large our souls, that radiate and emanate far beyond our corporeal forms.  To sense, to touch, to feel another is far simpler when our masses aren't hindering us so- the energies ripple and crave to meld- over any distance or space we deem is surmountable; yet we do not venture past arms' length, for fear of finding not only Other, but Ourselves.  And so we feel alone and sink.