By Jennifer Brookins

The great wave reached down to the depths of ocean’s floor that teemed with every imaginable form of sea life; bursting with desire to live and breath, and have its being under her great umbrella; then rose up, its breath shy of touching the hem of heaven’s gate; exhaled and curled its crest inward and downward until finally, after much struggle, pressed its body upon an unsuspecting shore. A moment of respite passed before it returned to pools of iridescent fish swimming with mermaids and whales and other mystic life-forms below the surface. And so it went, that love was never a right but rather a state of being to be experienced from loving. And the one who watered the rose, weeded the bed, tilled the soil, fed the child and sheltered the mermaids, was dearly loved and loved and loved.

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

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