My son's tiny feet leave footprints in the sand,
washed away by the steady ebb and flow of the water.
I sit back as his father holds his hands,
his feet forming brackets around our baby's.
Inhala. Exhala. Respira.
The salt-speckled air rings through my nostrils,
guiding itself into the depths of my lungs.
I exhale. Half-blinded by the sun
that kisses my skin,
spreading its warmth
throughout my body.
Night falls and we sit before a bonfire
singing songs together,
dancing,
watching the galaxy above.
Dawn breaks. I am alone
while my world sleeps,
walking along the beach to the forest.
The air is clear.
The birds sing my early morning soundtrack
as I sit amongst the trees
and watch the fish swim along with the current
from the waterfall before me.