Swim Small

Have you ever been to the beach at night?

The roar of the ocean seems to echo on forever.

Without the sound of voices and laughter to deflect its power.

The simplicity of human silence and nature's voice.

It’s the time for the ocean to think, to reflect.

To chat with the moon.

To lose itself within the tides.

Each wave brings in a fresh perspective.

A rush of saltwater to cleanse all wounds.

I climb to the top of the lifeguard chair to get closer to the galaxies.

The gleam of the boardwalk attractions glow from far away.

But I'm here in the moment, swimming in my own tide.

I stare out to the black of the sea and let myself be intimidated by the waves invisible to me.

We often back away from fear, but I continue to brace the unknown.

I recently had a dream of taking a boat out to sea and never looking back.

Sailing out until I glide past the breaking point of the crashing waves and land is a far away thought. I'm humming a familiar tune, yet I can't place it.

As morbid as it sounds, sailing far away gives me comfort in these uncertain times, a sense of control.

To let go of everything that keeps me trapped in the moment, to break free from this new normal.

Instead I'm trapped inside my head, accompanied by the shine of the stars.

The ocean is the only constant presence for me- it will always be there.

A part of my small world, a moment where I can swim small.