resident mockery --give us an hour for magic.
Friday, February 6, 2009
I feel like walking on water. I know if I do I’ll surely get wet and quite possibly freeze, let alone sink and not really be able to walk at all. So maybe what I feel like doing is walking out on a long pier over the sound. But I want to be closer than that. I would be content walking out on the rocks at Rocky Beach way out and breathe in the air and not be afraid to care, but that can only be done at high noon when the tide is out far enough to see the rocks.
I know
I want to be in the heat of a summer night in a river tucked into some trees like Pilchuck creek or the inlet at Post Falls in the Spokane River. I want to float on my back and look up at a clear night sky, making out constellations and wish on shooting stars and mourn the falling ones.
I want to be warm and relaxed. No burden of stress aching my brain or straining my serenity.
I want to soak in magic waters that heal worries and drown fears and tribulations. Surrounded only by the natural soft trickle of my limbs stirring underwater, warm breezes sifting secrets through the leaves and branches.
I want to focus only on my breath and separate me from myself.
I want to shed uncertainty like the skin of a reptile and assert reality in my true self.
I want to be born right here in the water, wake up to life in this enlightened state, and contour my young, eggshell mind around only innocence and beauty.
I walk each step one foot in front of the other out of my magic bath; testing the bounds of reality and questioning the trees and the flowers. Asking the fresh air how it can smell so good, complimenting the brilliant shade of green grass in the field.
I let the magic water roll and drip off and evaporate leaving me standing naked in a new consciousness, awakened and untainted. The wind will cry its warnings and kiss my neck like mothers kiss their children off on the first day of school. The moonlight will wrap me in its bright radiance and shine a light to guide me ‘home’.
