Here we go...Take Two:
"We came out from the deep to avoid the mistakes we made; that's why we are here." -Enigma |
I board my boat every night in search for peace and serenity
after a long day of what-if’s and shoulda-coulda-woulda’s, to sort it all out. I eventually end up here, nearly dawn, while
the ocean is as placid as an ice skating rink.
I’m usually trying to gain some insight as to which way to row my
‘proverbial’ boat in this wild ocean ride I call life.
At times, I am aware that I may be drifting into the calm
before the storm, and at other times, I know I am in the midst of a reflective
state of inner turbulence while attempting to find my way...home. There is always a light to guide me back to reality….whatever that word connotes.
*****
As I’m perched on the bow, looking down, not at the ocean’s
shallowness, but at my own, I dive down and am immediately aware that I’m under
the belly of a whale! I have never felt such
comfort.
The rocks are simply an illusion that there’s a barrier we
can’t pass through, but they are easily overturned. So, I begin to descend into the depths of the
ocean.
I dive to understand
that we came from the deep and there are many answers below us, yet there is still
so much undiscovered. There are many
lessons to be learned from the firmaments, too, which is where the other birds
have chosen to find their path. But this
bird has been drawn below.
The further I dive down, the darker and colder it becomes. My soul feels illuminated and my body
temperature begins to rise. What a sweet paradox. Instantly, things become clearer, like a
fierce calm, not because I can see, but because I can feel…as if my other
senses have taken over.
After I’ve searched the deep brine for revelations, I realize
that I am out of breath. I look up to
see that my whale - my elemental, aquatic soul mate - is still holding up my
boat; she hasn’t let me down. As much as
my boat is resting on its home, she is holding my precious winged soul
afloat. There are no oars aboard this
boat; they’re not needed.
Sadly, the light is her anchor, and mine. The light is my reality check calling me back
to the surface, yet ironically, my reflected reality also anchors this gentle
giant. Hopefully I - the mirrored Blackbird - will continue to hold
this precious cetacean’s head above the water, so she can’t sink; and together,
we will achieve a mutually beneficial reality.
We shall rise.
“If those harbor lights had just been, a half a mile inland,
who knows- what I would have done”- Tori Amos
well done ... into the deep if yet for a moment :) "e"
ReplyDeleteAwesome.
ReplyDeleteThe storm before the calm.