Ebb and Flow
My heart is wound
on seaweed spool
a window to my ocean
as I dwell within
tumbling water,
beached driftwood
where my skeletons
are buried in the deep.
I gaze at the cobalt line
on yonder horizon
yearning to capture it
as it shivers.
I listen to the soft
lapping lullaby of sea.
Winds exhale while
I inhale their scent.
Ocean choir melody
cradles me
as it ebbs and flows
while I float above
like a bird gliding,
soaring in life’s currents.
Watching the iridescent
regrets of the sun
as it reaches warm fingers
of light
tied up in ribbons.
Citron cloak rises
from the tides
bringing moody light
as drops of water
form latte foam.
I build sandcastle dreams
as the ocean skin
nuzzles dancing waves.
Neon charisma
burnishes gold medal sun.
Turquoise tears
call with whispered refrain.
I embrace the moment
as the wind sighs
my name mournfully
while the sea
bathes me in its arms
calling me home.
Peaceful Transition
Flip side of the fire... Just as mesmerizing. Brings a meditative state and speaks soothing words to an aching soul.
Words like, "come to me", echo on the breeze. Visions of walking into and beyond the white crests don't evade. Giving life over without much fuss or worry because the crash and chill numb and ease.
Peace and serenity
My mind expands outward;
Through time and space until I'm
At the very beginning of it all
Life
And I begin to wonder if our lives matter
Or to what purpose we serve
The waves crashing onto one another
Frightens me, but comforts too.
I stare blankly towards the horizon
As I listen intently at the sweet symphony that surrounds me
And I am at one with the universe and all that call it home
Sea
Standing in front of the ocean, I see distance. The prospect of foreign lands fills my field of view. I can't see it, but I know it is there, just beyond my eyesight. There is a gap between these places and my own. It is one filled with uncertainty and danger. However, forging onwards, one may reach a different world within our own.
The Last Time I Saw the Ocean And Then I Never Went Back to Work Again.
I remember the last time I saw the ocean, it was the first week in February of this year in Naples, Florida. My husband's family was involved in a complicated legal battle with a large bank, the details of which I was not then and am not now familiar, nor interested. Work had been extra shitty, I had a new boss who was becoming increasingly passive-agressively hostile toward me, which is my least favorite quality in a boss (though one I've for whatever reason encountered numerous times). I decided that I would take family leave under FMLA and stay the week with my husband and his family at the beach condo while the trial was going on so as to have a chance to get away from Chicago, and mostly from work, and clear my head a bit.
I remember arriving at the condo around 11pm, the air had that super "dewey sweet"quality you always hear people reference but (at least where I come from) never experience aside from maybe one time at camp when you were a kid (though that memory may well be fabricated, I don't really know) or possibly a couple times during college after partying way too hard and walking home as the sun rises (though in those memories that smell brought on dread, self loathing, and nausea, so that's probably not relevant I guess). But the air was dewey sweet, and in a good way, like in a way where you still have a night to sleep and and a day of sun and ocean and relaxing ahead, so it's all good. That's how it smelled.
It was dark out I didn't care, I could hear the ocean and I could see the ocean and I could see the sand and I wanted to sit in all of it, so I ran through the house, flipping my shoes off and shedding my winter coat on the way, out the back door and onto the beach.
It was calm. It was rhythmic. It was quiet. And it was big. I shed my socks (which I never found) and rolled up my pants and went in, it was warm. The gulf water is always warm, around this time it was about 72 degrees. I stood there for a while. I looked at the moon. I thought about my dad. I tried not to think about work but flashes of intermittent worry crept in every now and again - I tried my best to dismiss them, and breathe.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. OH HOLY SHIT WHEN MARIE SAID THAT SHE DIDN'T CARE IF I TOOK THIS WEEK OF IS THAT BECAUSE SHE KNOWS SHE'S GOING TO FIRE ME WHEN I GET BACK ANYWAY? Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Dad. Wonder how the Maya Angelou doc is coming. I love Dad. Dad'd tell me that work isn't worth stressing over, everything is as it should be, and we must except that. Except that, and breathe. Breathe. Breathe. ...But not that quickly. No, not that quickly, it's fine. OH SHIT NO IT'S NOT I TOTALLY FORGOT TO ATTACH A THIRD EXAMPLE IMAGE TO THAT DOCUMENT GOD DAMNIT THERE'S ONLY TWO TWO ISN'T ENOUGH THERE NEEDED TO BE THREE MOTHERFUCKING GOD DAMNIT I'M SUCH AN IDIOT. ...Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
It's nice out here.
Uncertainty
Standing barefoot in the sand on some beach along the coast, staring out into the seemingly never-ending water. It's unsettling to think about how much is out there we don't know about. The ocean is a giant matphor for life. So dark, uncertain, full of mysterious creatures. It is so fascinating and frightening at the exact same time. I wanna know more about it, and at the same time I don't.