Nature’s Freedom

Ocean breeze upon the face,

the crashing waves I hear,

The smell of brine upon the air,

on canvas dark an ocean surf.

White capped waves to break,

upon the sandy beach to froth.

Drawing back into the sea

fades into the second wave.

Seagull calls above, around,

begging for the scraps I drop.

A freedom felt within my soul,

yearning to fly the surf or sky.

In my stillness, alert my senses,

my mind to become like canvas.

I must paint what you can see,

the vision of a beauty scene.

Scents and sounds to hark,

vision, void of color, dark.

- Roger W Hancock

Dedicated to those who have only

the other senses to view the world.