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A Separation Of Life
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A Separation of Life
Kyle Marshall Water, the median of life. Growing up in a small town nestled tightly in the arms of the wasatch front, I learned early the importance of nature. There was a fine line drawn between religion and the outdoors, and the quest of my life was to determine an appropriate balance. Water, signifying the line between the spiritual and physical, played an important role in my secular teachings. Cutting through the center of town it was the very phenomenon that I had grown to love, the river. Soul restored and imagination stirred, the words of the river echoed the marks of God. Although by nature I stood alone, untutored and untouched, the waters of life left me free to understand the natural side of God's order. With its flowing properties and unbridled passion to move forward, the water was my spirit. An old weathered palm tree emerged from the seemingly impenetrable sandy beach. I leaned back against its rough surface as the waves of the emerald blue ocean slowly crawled to my feet. They lapped relentlessly against the shore as if trying to take me back with them. The wind blew gently over the top of the distant incoming waves as they mirrored back the competing rays of sun. With each reflection, I narrowly squinted my eyes and continued to marvel at this picturesque interaction of color and beauty. I raised my hand to my brow, wiping off the beads of sweat that saturated my face. As my fingers moved across my sensitive skin, I could tell the s...
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