oman! part 2

back home its christmas. but in oman christmas is for infidels, and for some reason i like it that way. i like being away from it all, my feet here in the...indian? pacific? arabian. yeah, arabian sea. over there, out past the sand dunes, is a hammock suspended from two trees in a large palm grove. i am going to lay in it and think about everything and think about nothing at all. and the dew will accumulate as the night grows shorter, and by the time i wake up in the morning there will be a dry silhouette of where i have laid. my sleep tonight will be peaceful, but intermittent. there are things to think about. there is nothing to think about. and in between i will look up and recognize the stars and it will all feel like one long dream and i will drift back home, back to my old hammock on my old porch. in my mind the sound of the crashing surf becomes a passing car on vernon street and a distant arabic conversation becomes the sound of students on the hill. and now, like back in lagrange, i will wish for her to be there with me. but she isnt. i dont even know who she is, but i long for her. and as i begin to discount this evening because i cant share it with a girl, orion bends down from the rigid posture he has kept in the sky for eons and look me in the eye and ask, "AM I not enough?" i hear the creator in his voice and i humbly reply, "yes, lord, you are enough." and how could he not be? the warm air, the stars, the sea, sleeping in a hammock half a world away...its almost too much to comprehend, this theatre of creation and providence, and tonight the show was all for me.