The Water Was Nice
Over the years I have really learned to love the Ocean. Her healing powers, her beauty, her ability to make me feel tiny. It used to be daunting to imagine how big, how deep, how mysterious she is. That perspective changed one day, when I felt particularly lost, scared, uncertain. I remember floating in the water, ears submerged. I surrendered. My tears blended in naturally. And I felt completely supported. She carried me and allowed me to quiet my mind. I am not religious, but this was a significantly spiritual experience for me. A hug from the depth of the source of all beings. That day I began to learn to trust uncertainty. Though I don’t live anywhere near the ocean, I have learned to let her guide me when needed. As uncertainty creeps its way back in, I meditate on the Ocean. Asking her to remind me of weightlessness. Inviting her power and beauty to inspire me once again.
This illustrated poem is dedicated to my admiration for the Ocean.
The Water was Nice
Look at her
holding double
the colors of the sky.
So endless,
incomprehensible.
And here am I
dry,
small,
forgettable.
Look at her
sneaking up the shore
so intrusive,
collecting details
of her glistening floor.
She is clear,
then peach, green
midnight blue.
Sometimes none,
sometimes all of the hues.
She is full of rocks, shells,
even pearls, bones,
rich with legends, poems,
stories yet to be told.
And who am I,
who am I,
who am I?
Tickled toes
I go in,
silky and cool on my skin.
She lets me walk,
she lets me swim.
I lay back my head
Inhale the colors of the sky,
Listen to tunnels and murmurs
of my voice, breath, heart.
She drowns my thoughts
floods me with wonder.
Belly up, arms out
I rest upon her
and I float,
I float,
I float.
And now there we are
hand in hand her and I.
Vast and far
We roll,
we sink,
we dance.
She sings with her waves
talks with her tide,
tells me something
that eases my mind.
She reminds me
that I see her
the way only a painter can see.
That what I see in her
I too have in me.
And suddenly
I am free,
I am free,
I am free,
To be small,
forgettable,
but seeing me.
Yes, the water was nice.