when time stood still

it’s five o’clock in the morning — the beach is dark, the water hidden beneath a sheet of pitch black.

the waves move. even when we can’t see them, we hear them. the subtle swoosh as water meets sand.

the waves are much like time.

ever moving. a constant ebb and flow.

as moments pass, the earth gets lighter, as if someone plugged in a night light. the sun rises, light reflecting off the water. 

it goes on forever…or seemingly so. 

the ocean. 

and time.

it’s quiet here. and the air smells different, fresh. full of endless possibilities.

sometimes i find myself missing when the world was shut down. when it felt like everything stood still. when time stopped.

but that was just wishful thinking wasn’t it?

time didn’t stop. maybe just our perception of it did.

i sit mesmerized by the slow movement of the waves. i take comfort in it. the water each time it hits the sand, the seagulls talking to one another as they sore through the sky. the soft chatter as others approach the shore.

the whispers of the waves feel like a reminder to take a deep breath. 

to slow down. 

to move with time, not against it.