Sunlight and Mist

Lying on the sand,

the sea breathing before me,

I watched the mist roll in —

soft, rose-tinted tendrils

curling toward me from the ocean’s edge.

Above me,

the sun poured its golden warmth

through the folds of water and air,

a gentle flame

shimmering in motion.

I lay there —

within it all,

in the heart of the dance —

as rose met gold,

as water met fire,

as breath and light

danced together

in playful devotion.

They didn’t blur,

didn’t strive —

they moved with one another,

giving, receiving,

swirling in a rhythm

older than thought.

And I felt it —

in my chest, on my skin —

the soft pink of mist,

the golden kiss of sunlight,

the way joy lives

in their meeting.

Not a metaphor.

Not a story.

But sensation —

a remembering in the body

of what it means

to carry both rose and gold,

to hold flame and mist,

to breathe as both soft and strong —

to be the meeting place

of sun and sea,

and let them move as one,

within me.

I want to say something

about God, Goddess,

about Love Divine,

about how the body

is a home for the holy —

but maybe it’s enough

to lie still,

to feel mist on the skin

and sunlight in the chest,

and let the body

quietly remember

what it’s always known.

© Fayenen, April 2025. All rights reserved.