Held by the rhythm of it all

A flu and the CFS have my body tired. I lay down on a wooden bench at the beach and let the sounds and sensations hold me. 

The gentle air moving, playing over the top of my body. The hard wooden bench below, bigger than me, a secure feeling, it straightens my back, opens my spine and tired stuck organs and muscles splay out.   Three long slow birds in the distance and some chattier ones closer by. The waves turning, cycling over and over, so reassuring. Endless, timeless. 

The day is overcast but the sun filters through clouds and gently warms me from the north. 

Just now this is what’s most important, being held by the rhythm of it all. I can resume mind questions later if need be. 

And the space opens up bigger inside me, more muscle melting. Breath larger and rounder, a consuming beauty. My arm and the wood of the bench seeming to be of the same substance, melded, gently animated. 

The life and the rhythms that are larger than me, move through me, of the same fabric as me.