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The sea at night. Cats with wings

At night, the sea ... the cold wind coming from the north tonight. Whistling blowing out the windows, and turn the spotlight on himself, seeking ever more distant horizon. Quietude of the sea, while the men are hiding in the fragile shells that dare to sail with this infinite surface, indifferent to small creatures ... living there or trying to cross it. For centuries, looks to pass things on his skin, often it is fed, as all that inhabit it. Spouse of the mainland, and shares with the dominance of this planet, where people believe they can say nations and cultures, and just try to prove not to be fatal, in front of something eternal.
Crushed by such immensity, the magician lets his eyes wander, bringing their thoughts and feelings in more appropriate size, facing immense that make up the essence of life. Sitting in the dark in front of the terrace of the bedroom, has already toured the lighthouse and greeted his roommates, quadrupeds and bipeds that, and now only, comes to terms with himself. In the darkness of the sky, low light, veiled by clouds and immense speed, finally, for an evening finds peace. All returns to silence, doubts, anxieties, fears, joys and beauty as well, everything is hush. His mind is empty, placid and serene, windswept clouds pass thoughts of a new calm. The serenity is not something to pursue or seek only to wait. It is when it is expected to bring relief from the weariness of pain as happiness, just as hard for the spirit as its negation. In the quiet, everything takes on a different flavor, a different meaning. It is not the happiness that makes immortal spirit, but his ability to tap into this reservoir of calm and peace. Everything else is illusion.
Goodnight.

(bhuddist mood mode ON)