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I Want a Cottage by the Ocean

I love the city
with its array of delights,
its offerings of culture, its
libraries and theaters,
its parks and plazas,
its lights and music

But I am weary of the city,
with its loud presence and
its oppressive anonymity,
its hemmed in freeways
and the misery of
endless construction

I want a cottage by the ocean,
where the air is clean, where
seagulls fly and the aura is gentle;
where the sun rises and sets
on a clear horizon—
a misty shimmering line low in the sky
that invites dreams,
and prompts secrets, and
asks me to wonder

I want distance from the acrimony in
our cities, from the rage and the fury in traffic,
from the numbing of noise and nonsense

I want to feel things,
kisses and love and
the holding of hands,
long embraces and deep
the joy of connection

I want to be close to the earth, to
the forces of life;
I want to hear the songs of nature,
and follow flowers along a fence row;
I want to see children laughing, and watch
the old be fearless;
I want to walk in the sand in the rain
by the water’s edge;
I want quiet nights under an
umbrella of stars

I want to weep openly, unafraid
to unburden my soul;
I want my pretenses unmasked, my
weaknesses understood, my wounds healed;
I want to possess wisdom and goodness, purpose
and fulfillment

I want an end to the suffering of
people I love—people disappearing in disease,
people paralyzed by phobias, people entangled with addictions,
people impaired by haunting abuses—sweet, astonishing people
who should be free

I want the wars to cease, the hate to
go away, the indifference to one another to stop;
I want a world that kneels
before the sacredness of humanity

I love the city,
but I want a cottage by the ocean

Copyright © 2016 Timothy Moody

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