And She Asks, Laughing


Wave upon wave washes over this shore, mindlessly obliterating the little scratched sand markings left by beachcombers long gone, the carved shapes of hearts and words returned once more to pristine primal innocence. This vast and timeless shore!

Laughing and sweeping their arms out across the horizon as if to encompass an infinite panorama of delight, a couple make their way along the ebb and flow of tidal waterline, and before them two children, pails and shovels in hand, race along with breathless wonder.

The little girl stops momentarily, her eyes widening with the joy of treasure’s discovery. She reaches down to scoop up a half-buried seashell. Rinsing it off in the cool waters sluicing around her ankles, she calls out and then races over to share the find with her brother.

“O look!” She beams, “Look what I found!”

He peers into the intricate shape, forged in the same ocean that birthed his ancestors, and with the exquisite regard only children can summon, pours into that small shell like wine from a decanter. Now drifting through immensities of starry radiance in silent majesty, he is that in which he floats, that in which every drop of countless individual awarenesses joyously merge into an infinite ocean of awareness. All swim within him in speechless brilliance, his own formless form stretched across space, birthing star clusters and trailing comets through endless paths of luminescent ecstasy. Worlds within worlds, worlds upon worlds, appear and disappear in the twinkling of his eye, and all the while a flaming yearning is met by an open welcoming embrace, as if one huge spirit heart perpetually forgets and then remembers itself, and only for the sheer joy of the thrilling re-discovery!

He then looks up into his sister’s expectant eyes, and behind her the scintillating sands, and then the ocean bluffs looming into the sharp blue sky. The hills are ablaze with sunlit vibrant greens and deep moist earthy browns, and soaring hawks tilt lazy wings higher in the upper air currents. Wisps of clouds emerge from nowhere and just as soon vanish, and it is all one piece, all one streaming body, and now his heart is breaking with unbearable beauty, with overwhelming love for the inexplicable presence of everything, and so he smiles at her, and gently hands the small shell back, and she asks, laughing: “How do you like it?”

stR kids

About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
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