GOOGLE TRANSLATE

Thursday, August 9, 2018

FLOATING


Life: an ocean stretching so far beyond my reach; emoting so many moods: energy on steroids one day; a limp noodle on another.

So deep. Stopping for a moment, I look into the blue-gray depths to see a world teeming with vitality. I sense the rhythm below as well as the whoosh of the swells as they lap up on the water-logged shore.

A chameleon. Flamboyant billowy clouds skating across azure fields reflect down onto this fluid life. Then, abruptly, colossal and ominous clouds thunder their warning to sailors. Beware! Enormous waves dwarf my boat. How dare I trespass.

Resting place. I wonder about the multitude who have faced these frothing mountains only to lose their grip and fall into Neptune's clutches.

Salty water gushes into my boat. What if I capsize? Will I finally sink down... down... down... until I submit as the pressure crushes from the outside in. And with no oxygen left to feed my brain, what will happen to a lifetime of stored up thoughts? All lost?

Simply lazy. Flatwater days arrive at last. Glassy smooth days where peace wears the crown and all is well under his reign- well maybe too good to be true days. Boredom seeps in. Nothing to contend with; to champion; to explore.

The ebb and flow changes, so must I. Stroking gently, I move forward defeating stagnancy. A momentum achieved-- then a thought flutters nearby, frantic and buzzing in brilliant blues to oranges and finally blinking a red of importance.

What? My daughter? What's up? Nevermind. I reach for my drawer overflowing with note cards covered in flowers, masculine stripes, and paisley. Yes, the wild one... that suits her.

Penning a heartfelt string of words that express the wonder of who she is--comes from the very depth of a piece of my ocean.

I throw the life-preserver on my daughter's bed for her to discover when she returns back home.

I settle comfortably back into the black inner tube, leaning with my neck just right in the curve and rest in the rise and fall of the waves.