Island Mine

When you sail on the sea, you find an island that is small and its beach, welcoming. You anchor and from afar, peruse the shore. You know you must be there on that island.  It awaits you. You dive into the cool water and swim to the island that is strange but familiar. You stay. It is strange but somehow home. In this place, you stay and find delightful, it begins indelibly, to build into a compendium of experiences and moments, even  clashes ending  in greater understanding and knowledge of it, that adheres you to itself. Beyond the island beach, there is a thick mist, but here,  the waters are sparkling clear and bright. Here, on this nameless island shore, it is fresh and compelling and undeniable. You must not delve into the cloud that could lead to trouble and darkness, but you have only to ignore it and concentrate on what you love to, have to see. There, could lurk danger and strife but that's not a place you want to enter and thus, your curiosity diminishes as you turn toward only the sun, the shore, the waters. You love this far off island for what it is, just as it is. You swim through its long waters. Your happiness is not what lies inside the island but what you see in beauty and the love of being there. Nothing is logical or demanding of faculty. You stay.  The joy continues for long years and you  are very close and one with the island that you know.  But you remember the time when you swam out and however pleasant and welcoming, you know it is not entirely your island. Your own island is far behind you and you are on one whose shore is home in a sense, but its interior, a mystery. You feel something there could attack but you won't know, can't and don't know its dangers and so you  keep away from that darkness. It is not why you came and thus it can have no effect upon you.  Darkness belongs to others. What you savor is the  warmth of  silver beaches,  refreshing water, discoveries to be found merely on the fringes and nothing more. What roils inside, doesn't matter because one day, all will be swept away, even  the island itself and everything on it.  Nothing matters forever, and though the inside must believe it is the island with pride and self-obsession, it is ignorant of what surrounds it, what holds it together, what gives it substance and character and beauty and attractiveness. "No man is an island...every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main", therefore, no matter how self-important are the inner depths of this island, they remain only a part of what surrounds it. To swim to this island is all, to lie on its beach and revel in its beauty on the sand and rock and no more, is worth all the trials and effort.  To be there and allow no thought of going back is all that matters.