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Treasure of the Mind. J. Michaels
Читать онлайн.Название Treasure of the Mind
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781621896999
Автор произведения J. Michaels
Жанр Зарубежные стихи
Издательство Ingram
After walking on the seawall and sitting on the beach for a couple of hours, I headed back to the Inn. In that short time span, I had seen pelicans performing vertical dives for food, surfers carving waves, and a multitude of other sensory impressions, some in very small bikinis. I was relaxed but suddenly very tired. Maybe a short nap would help. It had been a long time since I slept for more than an hour or two at a time. The last thing I remember before dozing off was a cool breeze wafting over me and the clock clicking over to 3:33pm.
The sun streaming through my window woke me and the bedside clock informed me that I had slept almost fourteen hours! I had slept more in the last day than I had during the previous week combined. I was beginning to like this place more all the time. On the other hand, it could have been a simple case of fatigue and exhaustion overcoming and shutting me down. Either way, it sure felt good to feel rested again. For the first time in awhile I actually wanted to get out of bed. I seemed to remember a little coffee shop nearby and I could sure use some caffeine to clear up my sleep hangover. After an uncharacteristically extended shower (I was usually a get in and get out kind of guy), I threw on some shorts, a t-shirt, and my recently purchased, beach-standard flip-flops.
The coffee shop was already filling up and it was just past 7am. It was truly another beautiful day in paradise, an aphorism I had already heard twice since arriving. The hand painted sign above the open door read Café Elyssa and as I walked in, the smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee filled the air. One small table in the corner set opposite a counter and display case for the pastries. Outside, bordering the sidewalk and facing the ocean, was another five or six tables and two fire pits with seating for another five or six at each. I thought about grabbing a seat at one of the communal fire pits but hesitated, knowing I wasn’t ready to socialize with strangers no matter how friendly they were. Instead, I paid for my coffee and decided to take a small table with two chairs back in the corner. I arrived there at exactly the same time as an older white haired gentleman only to realize that it was the same guy I saw on the seawall yesterday! I offered the table to him and he responded by gesturing for me to sit also. My first instinct was to politely decline and just take my coffee and go but there was something about this guy that intrigued me.
As I set my coffee down and pulled out my chair, he said, “How are you Michael? It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Heaven’s aid comes in varied forms
A book, a dream, a vision
But the hand of God comes mainly extended
Attached to arms of friends
Blessings wrapped in familiar terms
Or as strange as alien fruit
Synchronicity with unknown agenda
Delivers in simple terms
All that is needed or prayed for
Unexpected and often missed
Where I seek its wisdom
In clarity amid ocean’s mists
Solomon
“Do I know you?” was about all I could think to say. How could this man, whom I had never laid eyes on before yesterday, possibly know who I was? With the exception of the exchange of pleasantries on the seawall, we had no previous contact. This was getting strange but something told me to go with it.
“At some level, yes we do know each other,” he replied after a pause that seemed extraordinarily protracted. He seemed to sense my uneasiness and then added, “We met yesterday down by the beach. Don’t you remember?”
I nodded and took a sip of my coffee, hoping to buy some time. Here I was in a beautifully strange new place having coffee with a guy who felt oddly familiar but whom I knew I had never met. And he knew my name! “How do you know my name sir?” I finally got up the nerve to ask.
“Wayne told me,” he said, in that same simple style that instantly reminded me of Wayne.
“Are you Solomon?” I somehow managed to blurt out, still dazed by the implausibility of the situation.
“I am,” was his answer.
“We had an appointment to meet tomorrow at your office.”
“I know, but don’t you think this is so much better?”
Although he answered my questions, this strange man seemed as illusive as one of those passing ocean breezes. Not in an evasive way but somehow seeming to cut through the non-essentials and getting down to what mattered.
“Are you suggesting I spill my guts to you in the middle of the coffee crowd?” I said, becoming a little irritated.
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