We met again open the sandy hills under the sky at the edge of the earth. Why twice have we met this way, I do not know. We neither spoke the first time nor did we speak the second. We just stood waiting as the tide came in and out. There was no moon to like the sands. Unlike the first time, when day was just dawning and we saw the sun break the edge of the horizon and split the ocean. Your eyes, like mine were fixed there, as if by simply staring, our eyes could command the oceans to part that we may walk across on dry ground. Upon the waters, as the waves brushed the sands, we could hear the calling from the other shore. It was a call asking us not to forget about them and to remember that our destiny was no yet finished. If we could not part the waters, perhaps we could walk upon them. We waiting expectantly as the stars moved from edge to edge as if beckoning us to follow their path to move beyond our horizon to the next. Do we follow. We do follow.
I saw you take a step, the first of many that day, as you made your way to the shore, without ever looking up from the distance. With that clear vision you pointed to something beyond my sight. And by a miracle I saw you take a step upon the water and you did not sink. With that clarity unwavering, you stood and waited only for me to take that same step.
I approached the shore, eyes on the sky as it touched the waves. With my final step I felt my foot strike solid ground where there was none. The call had only just begun.