This prose is based on the great JONATHAN LIVINGSTON SEAGULL by Richard Bach. Thank you to @markcutler and @mjdoyle1950, and to those very special people who listen to this soundtrack of pure poetry, for being fellow-fans and for inspiring my piece today... "His one sorrow was not solitude, it was that the other gulls refused to believe the glory of flight that awaited them; they refused to open their eyes and see." JLS ~
When will you fly across the gentle sea at daybreak? And when you do, will you worry what the others are thinking? Will you let their busy-ness overwhelm you with feelings of insignificance?
Are you still wishing to be just another one of the flock? Or do you wish to soar closer to the silky water where you alone can feel its salty spray on your wings?
Do you desire to feel the whisper of the wind on your face as you glide across the brush-stroked sky at daybreak? Or will you be shamed for not joining the Flock in their daily course of ritual and routine?
Are you ready to float on the moonlit surface of the ocean at eventide while the others hunt for sustenance; their very purpose for existence?
Or is your sustenance the journey itself?
Listen to the whispers of Spirit as you glide across broad expanses of sea and shore. She will point you away from the flock so that you can hear the silent calling of the moon that moves the tide. Follow this particular silence for it contains the music of the universe.
Sanctus, Sanctus Jonathan ~ may you continue to go your own way; the wind, a whisper in your face...
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