Here I lay under a canopy of clear blue, lying on the coastline deserts of fine white sand.
My eyes, they are wide, awake, clear, and blue, matching the terrific waves.
My mind is open as well, yet, in the time being, it is cloudy, murky as the shallow shore, with dreams, thoughts, hopes.
My mind is wandering, limbs relaxing, heart beating, all in a steadfast tempo with the waves.
Trees are swaying to the rhythm of the ocean’s heartbeat, and seagulls are dancing a graceful waltz to the sound of the heavenly music of the waters.
It is me, the ocean, the birds; all joined in a chorus, a song, each our own melodies, harmonies, combining to create music.
Seagulls screech a terrifying soprano, my hearting is beating as a tenor, and the ocean has the choice of alto.
Music, we make, absently mindedly together. Music we are making, calling ourselves the coastline chorus.
Echoes of the sky thunder their applause, and with that a terrific rain accompanies.
Shattering thoughts I run, and the chorus dies down its happy tune.
A churning wail from the interrupted ocean wails it’s plead, and home I go, leaving altogether the coastline chorus.