Nostalgia

I sit along the foot of a shore, the waves ripple and glisten. Surrounded by a black forest line, I use my hands to truly listen. Playing with the wet sand between my fingers, they find a shell and start to linger. I look up at the full moon, inhale a deep breath, taste the salt in the air, and let my fingers trace the sand again. What is this emotion, that rivals the ocean, flowing through my chest All the way up and down, from my feet to my head, this feeling I can only describe as pure bliss. The stars so bright I can sense their hunger in the night. I feel it too, that I can do anything, and everything around me? We're all made of the same energy. I lock this into my photographic memory, because I know one day I'll need to feel it again. So here I am putting it in writing, the idea of losing it: frightening. Your story, though similar, is your own, so I encourage you all to find your home Whether a place, a feeling, or a distant memory, Just hold on to that powerful energy.