I am but an Island

for B who never stops on sailing...

This is where true emptiness lies.

People believe that an island
is another paradise-
it is a dwelling of hope
it is the light, the life of the sea.

Every morning, I welcome the sweet 
voices of the waves, the dance of whitecaps
every time they leap over me-
it is always a performance,

Sometimes, I wonder how they celebrate at night,
do they also dance 
or sing. Do they consider
an audience?

(I love to be with the waves. I love the solitude, i love the joy)

There is happiness in the sea.
There is total emptiness.
(when they don't notice my existence).

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