Water is Home
Beside the water I am never alone. Beside the water, I am home.
Water is home.
“It always rains in Seattle.”
Water is home,
but drought has stolen our evergreen state.
Water is home,
but we have been homesick for months.
We wait, restless for wetness, and consider other elements:
Earth - Mountains laid bare, denuded of their cozy blankets of snow.
Fire – the world, overheated, burns, devouring hectares of life, yellowing our skies.
Air – We sip shallow breaths and taste the greasy bite of smoke in each mouthful.
Gawping,
Gasping,
We long for a taste of humidity,
Search the horizon for clouds – like a tongue probing for a missing tooth.
Finally, rain - like an illusion of a long-held myth:
Quenching
Soothing
Reviving
We stretch towards the heavens like scorched plants,
Our very cells seeking the life-giving liquid.
Water is life.
Open windows welcome the sound and the smell of the wet.
Humid air, heavy in our noses, we bless the rains, and they bless us.
“Free Sky Water” we call it, and welcome the gift.
Welcome the water, and remember the wet on our faces.
We all begin in water.
Whether pulled or thrust from the wetness of the womb,
our lungs breathed water before our birth.
Timeless Dances, Ancient Rhythms, Create life.
Waves pulsing, pushing, cresting, splashing
Blood and water shed,
In birth
In battle
In love
Words for water formed in ancient language
Touched by the tongues of First People
Michigami
Minnehaha
St. Croix
Snoqualmie
Water links primeval to present
In tears
In creeks, rivers, lakes, oceans
In cups of coffee
In memories echoed in every drop, every sip, every wave.
Swimming pool provided by the dying mother in an effort to make that terrible summer a little less horrible, a little less terrifying.
Pools of sorrow
Tears that refused to fall
I find her in all seasons at the lake.
Hear her in the voices of the parents who warn:
“That’s far enough”
Hear her in my own voice.
Buoyant, I feel all of them lifting me – I am embraced by memories:
Little boys in bathing costumes, purple lips grinning.
Enigmatic aunt on a catamaran -
Beautiful.
Powerful,
Sun-kissed,
Free
On my rock, fishing with grandpa -
Bait your own hook.
Clean what you catch.
Bronzed and innocent, teens frolic and flirt in the surf -
Stolen kisses
Stolen moments
Each ripple tells a story.
Each droplet a portal to a memory.
The music of the water is a familiar song.
Beside the water I am never alone.
Beside the water, I am home
The stone in the circle that seals our bond is Aquamarine.
Aqua blue like your eyes -
Those bright pools that SEE ME,
see all of me.
Love all of me.
You are my favorite beach under a yellow flag.
Dangerous yet thrilling.
I could drown here – the intense pull threatening to drag me under.
Swamped
Flooded
A deluge of unexpected emotion
I remember not to fight the rip current
Instead, we swim parallel
Pull together
The ebb and flow shapes us, continuously, like beach glass.
We are soft stones in the water, shedding tiny pieces of ourselves.
Our rough edges erode until we are formed into something new.
We are beautiful crystals in a vase on the windowsill.
We are echoes of memories
In frosted breaths,
In humid evenings,
In tributaries that lead to places that we may never see.
In the end, we have a Lake View.
Five generations under stones, near the big, blue water that is life.
Where they returned to the earth, so I return home.
Water is home.
About the Creator
Allison Rice
Finalist 2022 V+ Fiction Awards, Allison Rice is a work in progress! Author of 5 previous Top Story honors including “Immigrants Among Us” "Pandemic ABCs" and a piece about Inclusion, Alli is an avid reader, and always has a story to tell!
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
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