Wines & Prologues

I asked; you arrived.

I smiled; you laughed.

I talked; you listened.

I sang; you danced.

The moon went through phases.
The tides changed directions.
The winds blew stronger.

I watched the horizon stretch endlessly—you only noticed the sand between our toes.

I braved treading the deep blue — you shook your head and said, “It’s too deep.”

I looked down to where my feet couldn’t touch, trying to keep my head above water.

It was deep—really deep. So deep that if I stopped moving my arms and legs, if I let go of the air I’d been trying so hard to save, I would slowly—slowly, slowly—descend.

Go so deep — not to drown. I’m past drowning.

I’ve been drowning without me knowing on land—but to see.

See that if I let go, let the water completely embrace me, let the waves carry me; let nothingness in this deep deep blue guide me, this silence, this darkness—this stillness… Maybe, just maybe; I’d feel a light ripple tickle my back, a flicker of light in my periphery, a faint clink in the distance.

Maybe, just maybe, if I let go of my idea of the surface I would find myself a like-soul drifting, still, waiting.

I found my peace here; you found your safety there.