Burn

My muscles ached. My body shivered. Sores grew all over me. My eyes couldn't shed tears anymore. It pained me just to breathe. It pained me just to hold on. To continue to push through the medium that which continuously held me back, which would hold me down once I had proceeded to stop gripping, was agonizing. To some they would consider it to be a mere trifle. They would surely brag and boast about how easy it would be to escape. Yet, only those that have never experienced such would boast about surviving, and returning for the thrill of ease and enjoyment.

Yet as the salt filled my mouth, drenching it, and drying it at the same time, I could only laugh to myself within my psyche as I recalled the words, of what I heard one man tell me. "It's sheer irony. The largest body of water on earth, is actually the world's largest desert. You're entirely surrounded by water. Yet, you can't drink a single drop."

It pained me. It had crusted my tongue. My eyelashes blinked crystals crusting off from me. Below the surface, I was warmer than above, yet my lungs would have to return for air.

I envied the creatures that could exchange water for that which they breathe. For if my lungs were to fill with water, they would collapse. The oxygen within them would never reach my other organs, let alone diffuse between my tissues. My body burned for more air.

Air, air, air... Air was king. Air, air, air... Air is King. Air, air, air... The King is fighting off usurpers. Usurpers that would wish to displace it. Usurpers that would sink the kingdom. Usurpers that would bring only misery and demise upon the rest of the kingdom, annihilating the King's generosity. For the Usurpers were willing to exonerate the King.

The usurpers that would dare to replace the King brining utter ruin to the empire. The temple with which the King would run his course would surely fall, as he would not be able to return. The assassination of the king would mean the death of all those who paid taxes to the King. For they would burn, for they would be in ruins. For the usurpers would be that of false Robin Hoods, stealing the King away and giving ruination to his subjects, to his leal citizens they would be forced to live in absolute terror before their untimely passing.

Submitting to the waves, I rolled over to my back, and slowly kicked my legs. Gingerly, I waved my arms and subtly fluttered my hands.

"TECHNIQUE! TECHNIQUE! TECHNIQUE!" I laughed to myself within my own head. For that was the lesson with which I taught my friend. Unlike me, he did not know how to swim. I told him to cup his hands, bring his fingers together, he was confused when I told him, as he proceeded to frown. I told him that he needed to do it to conserve energy, or else without energy, "You will drown."

I peered through my eyelids, barely opening them. The sky may have been flat, but it bounced as I was moved by the waves. I remembered swimming indoors, and how I would stay in my lane by looking up at the ceiling. With all of the clouds blanketing the sky, I couldn't make sense of which direction I was headed in. My worst fear would be that I was swimming in circles and circles on end. Never progressing, succumbing to the cold, being drained of more and more energy as my muscles would reach a point of burning until which they would move no more, no matter how much I mentally demanded them to.

Irony strikes again like a blacksmith's hammer atop a block of red hot steel.

I was cold, I was shivering, and above all even though I was yearning for warmth, my muscles were burning. Burning for relaxation, burning from the lactic acid build up caused by constantly having to perform, burning from pushing our mass through the viscous medium that was the ocean, and burning ever more for their King, Air. Oh Irony, be yee a cruel mistress of unrequited love, only to take and never to give, or be yee that of a cruel father, thou who only rears his head to bring down his harsh hammer of reality when such foresight would've been a blessing unto the child. Oh irony, why do you tempt, tease, and torture me so?

Off I dreamed. In and out of the mental space as I lapsed and relapsed. My eyes shutting for less than half-a-second, but it felt like hours if not an eternity. From there I dreamt of several things.

I was at a pool party, floating on an inflatable raft, my back remained cold, but the sunlight beaming on my forehead felt hot, yet my goosebumps were ever present and rising from the whipping winds.

For some reason the water felt warm. I was teeny, tiny even, a babe in my mother's arms. No need for false modesty. All was bare. The squalling, the cooing, the gripping of chubby fingers on her skin. Resting atop her breast, and taking the nutrients from them that which she provided. Nourishing, nurturing, and nursing; the bond between mother and child. I may never return to that state of life, as I have grown as have my tastes and instincts, but to her, no matter how old I am, she will always view me as her little babe.

I had dreamed that I was a child, who had fallen asleep while on timeout. My nose in the corner, I was being reprimanded, and being forgotten. I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. My mother had come in from a long day of work, her schedule differed greatly from my father's. They greeted one another, talked, and murmured. Even though I was asleep, I saw another, my adversary, younger than me but just as spiteful, from the same ilk, begotten from the same people, she slept in the other corner. Upon their murmuring, my mother had asked my father a question that caused his voice to rise. He had forgotten about us, and had proceeded to make dinner. No wonder the house was so quiet. Just like my adversary, I was picked up from my sleeping spot, and carried up a spiral staircase. Upon whence I was laid down in a bed, to be put at ease for better rest, first my head came in contact with the pillow, followed by the rest of my back, then I was covered in the warmth of the blankets. Off into deeper sleep I slept.

When the covers were yanked from me, I awoke from my slumber. The cold now blanketed me instead of the warmth, covered in a lack of heat. I had fallen asleep in that dream and woken up in this world again. The waves had washed me up, and pulled away from my skin, leaving me bare to the air. No longer stranded within the waters, I was now ashore the sandy beach, of where I did not know.

Was it the beach of a mainland, was it that of an island, were there any other inhabitants, especially that of humans, I could not know. What I did know was that I needed to move. I needed to climb. I needed to raise myself up from these sandy shores, and seek shelter elsewhere.

The ocean, mother to all life on earth from where we had originated from, she could be a blessing, a curse, a cruel mistress, a tender nurturing mother, a wild dame who many a sailor has fallen for in their hearts with a burning passion hotter than the sun's flames, or even a reciprocating lover never leaving one go unrequited and unsatisfied; of these she be, but upon me she sought pity. Knowing that I would return to her for nourishment and travel when the time arises for the need, I coughed, hacking up water, spitting, rolling over to my hands, I pushed myself up to take my leave.

Strolling upon the beach's shores, I dared to walk, to warm up, as I explored. I was blessed, as I had been given a bounty before me. Above in the trees were fruit, not one but two. Two mighty trees bearing fruit, not for me, but for their own purpose of propagating their species. These fruit were figs and plums. I am so blessed, a gambit with life has been won.

The lessons that my parents have given me I have learned and imprinted within my brain as a carver does on stones for tablets. The lessons that they had given me did not make me rich, but wealthy with knowledge, they were never gone.

I remember the story of a young man indebt who resorted to stealing figs from a housewife's garden, as he was chased out from their domicile and off their lawn.

Such a story came from a book I had listened to before as its records were passed down from millennia ago, "The Richest Man in Babylon."

Upon this feast given to me, I did not know what else to say.

Upon this feast being given to me, I fell to my knees and began to pray.

Mother... Oh mother... A lovely woman are you not?

Mother, oh mother, you provide for not just yourself, but your children you beget of your lot.

From the seas

To the trees

To the supple ripe juice of the fruits that are mature ovaries;

Mother, oh mother, you do not coddle, but provide and filter that which are fit for thee.

Mother Nature in her nature showers.

Mother Nature in her nature devours.

Mother Nature in her nature flowers.

Mother Nature in her nature empowers.

Mother Nature in her nature she selects naturally.

Mother Nature in her nature favors those who survive rather admirably.

I ate my fill. I drank the juices to my heart's content. I even managed to save the seeds that which I extracted from the meat of the pulp, not wanting to waste the gifts that these two saving graces have given me. I was blessed. For betwixt them was an alcove. Be it a small hole within the face of a rock wall behind the trees, I was more than grateful for I had sought shelter, and the universe had provided.

Rest, nutrition, and shelter, these I had desired. Their deliverance was given in that order. I had slept and rested upon the salt waters that held me within their grasp as a mother holds her babe. Upon waking I had gathered what bit of strength I had left within me to look for the most basic of necessities. An answer was given to me in the form of nature's bounty. Mother Nature had her daughters provide well for me. As I ate upon their ripe fertility, they bore for me their children with which I could use to give them of more daughters in reverence to the great Mother. A small cave, a pocket within the earth hidden behind the fruitful fertile daughters was given unto me.

For I had burned, I had burned away until there was barely nothing left, then I had continued to burn even more. Ever more odd was that I had burned away in the that which was to satisfy burning sensations, yet it had caused me to burn and burn even more. For I had burned, I had given, then I was sure that I was done for. Alas, since I had given and not given up, even when I had rested, I was delivered for I had delivered. I am thankful, I am grateful. For all that I had given had led me here to safety. Yet, it is not within the bosom of safety do I remain to be lethargic. It is from this bosom of rest and nourishment that I bound off from to explore and make the rest of this world my domicile.