" The tourist traps are empty ... vacancy abounds ... almost like it used to be before the circus came to town."
The island is quiet riding my bicycle in the predawn of the day. The ocean is glass, the flags above Ocean Plaza are limp, a lone couple holds hands as they make their way to the beach to watch the sun rise and I coast to a stop ... to just appreciate it all.
It seems as I have the place to myself for the moment. All of the walkers and runners that populated the island for the summer have disappeared, time drips slowly, there is no hurry ... no need to rush. Bright beams of red, yellow and purple burst out of the ocean and all of nature sings ... Here Comes the Sun.
So ... "I come down and talk to me ... when the coast is clear."
The coast is clear.
About damn time.
It's been a crazy ride getting me to this point taking me all around the world, dancing with angels and assholes, finding love and losing it, falling into loneliness only to discover people who really love me refusing to let me be alone, and letting things come to me rather than me chasing after things.
I climb off of my bicycle and go to kick the stand down but miss so it falls to the ground. I leave it there and walk to the swing on the beach at the end of my street. The sky turns blue and a red bubble dances on the water.
"This is where it began," I say out loud ... to God ... and the coming sun ... in prayer.
I sit there, swinging back and forth, dragging my bare feet in the sand and the red bubble turns into a yellow blaze of glory throwing diamonds on the sea and chasing stars away at the same time. Seagulls sing hymns of adoration. Dolphins dance. I am baptized in sunshine.
On this swing is where I found me again. I'd given me completely away ... to a career ... to others who took it without giving anything back ... to politicians who are the worst takers ... to people who I believed loved me.
But on this swing one summer night ... the rest of me was re-conceived. So now the rest of me is here ... finally.
Standing ... the coolness of the morning sand kisses my feet. I kick my right leg up throwing sand into the sky. Then I dance back to the fallen down bicycle representing my fallen life ...
"Let's go," I say in prayerful delight.
And we ride.
Into my future.
