The waves kiss my feet. I love the way they run in and out of my toes, letting the froth form designs on my skin. I revel in their graceful patterns, reminded of a dance of delight. They seem happy for no reason. Slow whispers, carrying thoughts that nobody else can hear. And at other times, they lash at the shore with a frightening aggression. They sound like the roar of a hungry lion, wanting to attack anyone in sight. Sea gulls are having a field day, chatting amongst themselves, unaware of the mood swings of the waves, while few others look for a wholesome meal, basking in the view and savoring the moment. Waves are relentless. Each time they come running to the shore, only to go back again, to come back with more force and beauty, discovering more about themselves, listening more carefully to their own pulse and heartbeat. They fall and rise again, like everything around them is in harmony, their happiness, their struggles, their losses, or their gains. Shimmering lights adorn
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