A Recurring Dream
The ocean stretches out before me in every direction. Treading water, I can tell it's time for me to swim. Fear is gone. Reticent doubt has been removed. Only blue expanse remains as far as the eye can see and the mind can comprehend.
The water is warm. I am warm. Comfortable and swallowed in the blanket of the sea, I begin to swim. The horizon breaks in jagged, gentle lines of rolling waves.
Going forward makes as much sense as going backward. My muscles respond the way they always wanted to when I was in a pool or at the beach. Every stroke, every kick provides a response. Progress isn't about arriving, it's about continuing the journey.
The sights are the same at each site in the journey. The blue expanse surrounds and envelopes me. Topaz mirrored with slight reflections of the light source just beyond the corner of my eye.
Firm ground has never felt as right as the resistance of the water to the sole of my foot. Each kick, each movement of a calf muscle, the tightening of my thighs produces the expected result.
Maybe I have moved position. I might not have moved at all. To stop swimming would be to drown though. There have been times when I certainly felt as if that were the case. Right now, the water is calm. The water is a friend. It has never been my enemy. The adversary is the darkness.
But there is no darkness here. Only light and water fill my view- my existence obscured by the gentle motion of the waves as I perpetually swim.
The sky- oh the sky! So brilliant, so calm, so outrageous, so present and yet so transcendent. The water meets the sky and yet I still do not know it. The clarity and the calm brush against me like a hazard and a kiss.
Swim farther. Do not tire. Swim farther. A recurring dream.
Seen at the edges of consciousness, sleep may have brought me the dream, but it no longer remains there. The dream dominates my conversations, the lapses in communication, and the misreads of language. But I have never mentioned it to a soul before. It's still there.
I swim on. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, as I progress without progress. It feels like home. The chance to change and stay the same.
If only the ocean knew this place. If only the ocean knew the water by name and reached for the sky to rekindle its love lost. The ocean, the lake, the waterfront broken and jagged miss this place. This place they hold so dear as they call to their lost love. Where have you gone? When will you return? Where are you to be found?
The dream rampages through my days, breaking the bounds of normal thought. What is sanity after all but the ability to appear a certain way in front of other people?
My constructs might be simple. The water is simple. The sky is simple. They call to me, bringing me back to them. Inviting me to swim once again.
The water is warm. I am warm. Comfortable and swallowed in the blanket of the sea, I begin to swim. The horizon breaks in jagged, gentle lines of rolling waves.
Going forward makes as much sense as going backward. My muscles respond the way they always wanted to when I was in a pool or at the beach. Every stroke, every kick provides a response. Progress isn't about arriving, it's about continuing the journey.
The sights are the same at each site in the journey. The blue expanse surrounds and envelopes me. Topaz mirrored with slight reflections of the light source just beyond the corner of my eye.
Firm ground has never felt as right as the resistance of the water to the sole of my foot. Each kick, each movement of a calf muscle, the tightening of my thighs produces the expected result.
Maybe I have moved position. I might not have moved at all. To stop swimming would be to drown though. There have been times when I certainly felt as if that were the case. Right now, the water is calm. The water is a friend. It has never been my enemy. The adversary is the darkness.
But there is no darkness here. Only light and water fill my view- my existence obscured by the gentle motion of the waves as I perpetually swim.
The sky- oh the sky! So brilliant, so calm, so outrageous, so present and yet so transcendent. The water meets the sky and yet I still do not know it. The clarity and the calm brush against me like a hazard and a kiss.
Swim farther. Do not tire. Swim farther. A recurring dream.
Seen at the edges of consciousness, sleep may have brought me the dream, but it no longer remains there. The dream dominates my conversations, the lapses in communication, and the misreads of language. But I have never mentioned it to a soul before. It's still there.
I swim on. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, as I progress without progress. It feels like home. The chance to change and stay the same.
If only the ocean knew this place. If only the ocean knew the water by name and reached for the sky to rekindle its love lost. The ocean, the lake, the waterfront broken and jagged miss this place. This place they hold so dear as they call to their lost love. Where have you gone? When will you return? Where are you to be found?
The dream rampages through my days, breaking the bounds of normal thought. What is sanity after all but the ability to appear a certain way in front of other people?
My constructs might be simple. The water is simple. The sky is simple. They call to me, bringing me back to them. Inviting me to swim once again.
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