She

She is incomprehensible.  Her presence pokes my brain provoking cooling embers to kindle and re-ignite.  In and out of my life she comes and goes as the tide to a sandy beach.  And as the beach when the tide is in, I am softened, wet, and moldable.  But when she is gone, I am dry and only able to be blown away and about by the winds of life.  I cannot move, so I must accept these things or be miserable.  

By day I am warmed by sunlight - peace comes upon me as the heat sustains.  Sunset comes and I gaze, fixated by it's beauty - I am satisfied.  By night I am not yet alone, for the moon reflects the sun, and it's light with the stars as angels guide me in the midst of darkness.  i am not lost without the sun, for I know that he has only gone away to comfort the distant shores beyond my horizon.  I am never in true darkness.

When the sun returns, oh the glory it shows - brilliance in the sunrise, and the sands upon my surface are warm again.  While the ocean is untamable, the sun is constant.  But if you look beyond the surface and dig into my shore, even though the sand on which you stand is dry, you will still find water.  Even though she comes and goes, you will still find her in the depths near my soul, even if only faintly underneath the surface.  She is the paradox of distant presence, and as long as the tide comes and goes, the water by my soul will never dry up.