December 12, 2011
It is in the water where I feel most at home. It is my comfort blanket that can fill a whole pool. It is the embrace I get when I leap into the clear blue waves. Watching tiny bubbles float up to the surface. It is a place I can think.
Water. H20. It comes in so many forms. It comes in rain, in ice, in tears, in sweat, in the air. Water knows what the world is like. Water knows things I never even knew existed. Water knows.
Water knows forgiveness. It never holds a grudge. It comes back, always comes flowing back. Human beings are not like water. With humans, grudges are held, arguments rage, and they will never look back, never forgive. Not like water.
Water is creative with words. A vocabulary of swish, gurgle, splash and crash. Each sound has its own different meaning. Angry water bubbles and steams, playful water goes sploosh and sends ripples running through the surface. Water never hides its feelings as the people in my life do so often. Never.
It is beautiful on the surface, but even more marvelous below. A haze goes over my vision and the world becomes a watercolor painting. It’s like living in my own personal art museum. Feeling the water like silk on my skin. Wonderful silk caressing, my arms and legs. It reassures me that I’m beautiful. To water I am beautiful.
Floating in between worlds, watching bubbles fly to the surface. Sound is muted. It’s an empty void of thoughts. I share my thoughts with water. It fingers my hair, whispers silent comforts in my ears. Water is a friend. It always will be.

Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

LenoreNevermore said...
Jan. 31, 2012 at 2:34 pm
Site Feedback