Observation

Observing…
I am an observer.
By nature.
Or nurture.
Not sure.
I like to sit on the shore.
Watch the waves crash.
Take in the beauty.
Feel the metaphors of the tides.
In my soul.
Watch as children frolic.
And lovers stroll.
I see patterns.
Recognition.
It makes me feel.
A certain way.
And I capture that.
In words. Images. Color.
But not my body.
My being.
Everything buzzes.
Before my eyes.
The life and laughter.
So vibrant!
But, of course, it is not mine.
I hear a call.
From the waves.
“Come, Mom!”
And I am swept away.