I picture myself standing on the edge of the cliff, the tip of god's finger, with the ocean spread out like a quilt below. Waves form wrinkles and ripples that make the quilt tender and comforting. Wind combs my hair, skin, and makes my white cotton dress flap--a flag surrendering to the Earth. As if it has been waiting centuries to combust, the Sun drenches the Earth with translucent light and the heat of god's soft breath. Salt, water and Earth's herbal elements fill my nostrils, which are slightly flared to fill my body with as much sweet air as they can take. The golden essence of the Sun's light paints my face, reflecting the glare as oils gather on the surface of my pores. My face is sprinkled with microscopic prisms. My lips are full and lush, glossed with their usual dusty rose shade from the thirsty coastal air. I kiss the breeze each time it envelops me and showers my cells with oxygen. The breeze presses up against my face for a few shy moments and then retreats. My arms are spread eagle, palms towards the sky. My eyes are wide open, pressing the air, holding their gaze and looking at nothing and everything. I see everything. My feet are bare. The curvature of my arches lay smoothly on damp weathered stones. My toes curl under to keep my balance. The thin, sheer layers of my white cotton dress float in the breeze. The hemline sits just below my knee caps. The skirt floats away in a subtle A-line over my hips. The wrap ties neatly at my waist on the left side and the seams fold in a V between my breasts. My arms are bare. The wind brushes my crisp shoulders, wraps itself around my biceps and tickles my exposed armpits. My golden wheat hair carelessly tosses about in the wind-- tangling, flying, diving, plastering itself to my neck and cheeks, and then taking off again like a million kites. The entire Earth is a heart beat: the Sun, the tides, the winds and my breath all pulse together as one entity.
I hear no sound. No wind. No waves. No seagulls. Not even my own breath. I think of nothing. I see everything. I am fully drawn into myself.
I am at god's finger tip. God is holding out his hand for me to explore, to live, to love and to admire. No matter how close to the edge I get, I am still on god's hand. The ocean below me, the wind around me and the Sun above me give me permission to leave god's hand occasionally, but even the water, the air and the light are connected to god's hand. So if I choose to leave god's hand for a while, I know that the current, the breeze and the light will guide me back to solid ground.