It Was the Beginning, the Middle, the End

It was a warm beginning—

Soft and honey-colored like the first blush of dawn.

The sky wore a gentle smile,

The birds sang lullabies to the wind,

And the waves, tender and slow, whispered stories to the shore.

It felt like something out of a daydream—

A soft-spoken miracle no one dared to disturb.

It was everything you’d ever wished for

In the quiet corners of your heart.

Solitude, yes—but not the lonely kind.

The kind that wraps itself around you like a quilt.

The kind that breathes with you.

You could hear your thoughts clearly,

And they were kind.

But slowly, so slowly you almost didn’t notice—

The waves began to shift.

Tiny ripples turned to restless tides.

The breeze that once hummed a lullaby

Learned to howl.

And still, you told yourself,

“This is fine. It’s only weather.”

The boat, once steady, began to creak.

A song of warning in wooden groans.

Birds stopped their melodies,

Perhaps flown to safer skies.

The sea, no longer soft-spoken,

Roared with teeth bared and salt-flecked fury.

And one day, without ceremony,

The boat broke.

Snapped clean in half—

A jagged, splintering silence

Where something once whole had been.

All the dream-drenched days before,

Swallowed.

There was nothing left but floating debris

And the memory of sunlight.

The kind you almost doubt was ever real.

It was the beginning,

The middle,

And the end—

All folded into a single, trembling heartbeat.

A story told in salt and splinters,

In birdsong lost to the wind.

And even now,

If you listen closely,

You might still hear the waves

Whisper how it all once was.