I’m feeling empty this morning.

Not “bad” empty or “good” empty.

Just, empty.

As if I survived a deadly, stormy night from within a tiny shed. 

Only to come out the next morning and see the landscape cleared away. 

Trees strewn about. 

Sheds ravaged.

Fences torn though.

Blood, sweat, tears, blood.

And yet.

There’s a spaciousness that permeates the scene. 

The rainforest leaves are greener and more vibrant. 

The birds are back to singing their melodious tunes.

The clouds are shades of blue, gray and white.

The sunlight piercing through them is sharp and warm. 

The air is icy and crisp. 

The mountains are sitting majestically in the background. 

All is vividly alive, yet quiet. 

The storm that whirled passed last night created space where there was none.

It destroyed that which was housed for a long time but served no purpose.

Finally, I can see the expansive ocean from my tiny hillside shed.

Waves mischievously frolicking, beckoning me to join them into the Infinite.