We are strangers


We are strangers, washed up from the open sea onto the opposite ends of this island, trying to find our way into each others arms. We will wear the soles of our feet plodding ahead, stumbling over our own foolish mistakes and scraping the broken shells hidden in the sand. We will swallow our deep hunger and muster waning strength. We will sing with the songbird and dance with the violent wind, smile at the wonder of the sunrise and cry at the chaos of the ocean. We will write love on our arms and wear hope proudly on our chest. We will always be on the move, searching.

And who knows? Who is to say we will find each other at all? Maybe we will find another along the way, also searching; maybe we will perish in the search; maybe we will never find our way into each others arms.

But there is something beautiful in the search, in the knowing that it is possible to be that much closer to making yourself complete. There is some catharsis in grasping the chance of finding that stranger you’ve been waiting your entire life to meet. And there is some wonder in coming so close to being completely isolated, but never alone.


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