Water Talk

Bare feet on wet sand, cool salt water gushing in from the far ocean, rising above ankles, standing in the huge surround of sea, then water halting, receding, pulling with the giant tugging, irresistible, the sand beneath bare feet getting eroded away, stolen by the tugging sea, and suddenly the ground isn’t solid at all, it is vanishing, and standing up becomes a challenge, the earth is giving way to the roaring power of the ocean, and bare feet are sinking sinking sinking

I hold my breath. I know the end comes near, it only overlaps another beginning. Stones beneath me, a lullaby of water.
No. But I am cradled. Lifted by fingers of Neptune’s grace. My fists full of sand, all these sensations.
But I am not afraid.

This true ocean is vast beyond imagining, and powerful beyond understanding. Resistance to its aching beauty is impossible for the genuine breathing feeling heart.
All that’s asked for is authenticity. Being real. The one true surrender to wholeness, sincerity, grace.
The sinking is thus exquisite joy, the ached-for freedom, a revelation, a transformation into one’s own true being.
A dialogue like no other. One’s native language spoken at last, at long long last. Utterances the ears have craved hearing since before memory began.
Cradled by grace, tasting salt water and long strands of flowing hair, swimming with a power that cannot be told in words. This aching beauty.
Fear evaporates like a tiny puddle in blazing sun.
It is all the purest common sense. It is all so clear and plain. Exotica is not needed; fancy notions would only get in the way. Intelligence blooms; maturity deepens. A home-coming. Rapture. More.

The water is gray and green. You cannot see its depth. Is it bottomless? Do I care? It fills my ears with its rushing song, tickles at the corners of my mouth but I do not submerge, it encircles my face. I have given in to this weightlessness…yes….but I control where I swim. I gently move my legs, tighten my thighs. Spread my arms. I am a bird in the updraft…pale skin in the green and gray.
The sky is endless, above and below. For I am not truly water. I am blood and air. You are the salt cliffs towering over me…hardened by time and a loving goddess. Shaped by this water. I crash upon you. I crash upon you. Pale skin in the green and gray.

There was no beginning, and there will be no end. There is no effort, no push or pull, nor even intention, except this pure aching yearning to hear the inner rhythms, and to move with them, inside them, to become the rhythms we are feeling. Here in the vast water, all motions are blurry, softened by the guiding firm wetness, strong yet always yielding, always allowing perfect freedom. How can anything as soft as water be so definitely guiding? This is a mystery. I am helpless before it. The only opening is surrender.
Water glides on skin; skin becomes electric in this dialogue with the perfectly-caressing wet. However wild your crashing, it is all a gentle gift, a healing, a reconciliation, peace-making, acceptance, affirmation, tears of quiet joy. The strength of your bones grows stronger; the heat of your blood grows hotter, even in the coolness of the water.
Heartbeats: twin-thumping cross-rhythms. A music like no other.
There was no beginning and there will be no ending.

This freedom…a little death….merging.
So I’ll hold my breath until the last moment. So here I cling until the last moment!
Uncurl my fingers….cells sobbing….one last kiss before I drown.
Heartbeat: Silence in the Sinking…

Water Talk


Joined August 2008

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Once I traded emails with an unknown man…he was The Ocean. I was The Air and this was our conversation. I have never in my life spoken around poetry this way…I have never in my life had anyone ever speak to me this way…and I will never forget it. It was the one single moment I felt understood and understanding was faceless….


ocean air

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