As it became night the boat felt more like home than it ever
had. The stars had a brilliance not even a mountaintop had shown her. It was
still. Quiet. A glistening—a vastness and openness, possibility, an intensity
in her stomach that the importance of such a minuscule creation meant everything
to the sum. She’d never had a problem with the sea churning her stomach, but
today, right now… at the sea, that infinite above and infinite below, that was the
feeling she needed. That was a deep, tearing craving coming to fruition. A
nervousness and perfect calm simultaneously. A true peace within the lack of faux
security, with which came more wonder, more freedom than anywhere on land, any
work of her hands, any realization of her passions.
On the bow she stood, listening to the jib trembling in the
slight wind, the lifeblood of movement. This is the most awake she’d ever felt.
The most in humble reverence there could be here.
As the sun began to give that sweet touch of light, she
pulled the blanket over her head and stretched her body, tensed from falling
asleep on the deck under the stars. The blanket was soft on her face and warm
from the heat of rest. The rain brought her to her feet. She upturned her face and felt the tiny
droplets awaken her skin. A single drop hit the back of her neck and slowly
moved down between her shoulder blades, falling all the way down her back. The
chill brought her alive. She stared at the surface of the water. The droplets
caused reactions, changed the surface, made eddies that stretched out to touch
each other. All mixing eventually into one body. How invigorating it was. Water
reaching water. The fish coming up to take part in the newness, the change, excited
by the movement. The dynamics of tranquility amongst impact was so much to savor.
She tasted the rain, the drops made deep orange and blue by the sun accelerating into the
horizon. It happens so fast out here. It never truly felt dark. The warmth
traversed her skin and gave her goose bumps. So much is under there, unseen,
quietly affecting everything. Mysteries and symbioses. Phytoplankton reviving the
air more than trees. Nematocysts of every potency. Communications in deep
songs, in vibrations, in changing color. Flirtations without worry.
Absolutely no desire for destruction. Simply continuance.
Leaving the earned warmth of her blanket and the deck
absorbing the sun’s gifts, she threw her clothes aside and dove, hands leading, arms above, gracefully…
changing everything again.
