You died today. Early this morning you ceased to be.

I’m told it was peaceful. I wasn’t there.

I too was drifting between wake and sleep.

A voice came to me at some point in the night and

whispered to me gently that I should wake up.

That it was important.

I didn’t know what else to do other than to venture

to the place I find the most life, or at least

the most evidence of it. The oceanside.
Where life pulses in triads.

Beachgoers of all ages pass balls and twirl colorful umbrellas

while Congo drums provide the background music.

Then there’s the vast, hungry sea.

It is brimming with life and momentum even when

appearing still.

The sun warms my forehead and shoulders,

shining through the smoke and the

smog, bringing life down to us all.

If this is the edge of the world, it’s not a bad place to be.

I know more ocean lies just beyond the horizon.

I know there are more boats and even more people.

Maybe there’s somebody just like you… or just like me.

I can’t see any of them but deep down, I know they’re there.

Wherever you are now, I’d like to think it’s as peaceful as this.

I’d like to think your last breaths were as light and serene as

the sun’s twinkling rays bouncing off the sea surface.

I hope that wherever you are, wherever you may be floating,

that it is pleasant and comfortable.

If you get too warm, you can dip your toes beneath the sand surface

to feel the compact cool.

If you get too chilly when the breeze rolls over Malibu,

I hope there’s a warm blanket you can wrap around your shoulders.

I hope wherever you are has iced tea in crystal glasses,

bowls of crisp, salted pretzels, and an endless supply of

National Geographic magazines.

I have found we enjoy many of the same things.

But maybe you don’t need any of that.

Perhaps, as you’ve ceased to breath,

you’ve ceased to need. Maybe death

is not the opposite of life, but the essence of it.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ve transcended it all.

**To see the poem inspired by this beachside thinking, click here.