from my earliest memories i longed to be returned to the water
as though submerged, surrounded and buoyant for so long before birth,
swaying softly within the warm embrace of a woman’s salty sea,
i remember being suddenly crushed, cold, then heavy and land locked
i gasped for oxygen, survived the birth, survived my mother’s suicide the same year i started school,
survived the many aftershocks in our family as we stumbled along our dusty path,
but are we seeing the pattern here? the choice for life on land may be where we fundamentally went wrong.
it can be very tough living here, and my story is far from extraordinary, i’m sure you will agree.
did we leave the sea because our food became scarce? or because we were something’s favorite snack?
it seems so bountiful there. but perhaps it was just a mistake to leave,
and that explains our mass tendency toward lunacy,
all this difficult lumbering about the land.
in any case, we all feel that attraction to flow back to the source;
our skin encapsulated the bit of sea we must always carry with us and still it is water that we mostly are.
(except for the bones we are very cushy to lie against, because of this yielding pliancy).
we will always long to merge, relax within slow currents, and to hear the long undulating sounds
from far beneath and beyond the range of sight, to flicker though refracted light sleek bodies
thrusting then coasting with ease above the myriad colors of long reefs swaying filtering fans and billowing
schools of bright fish. what stops us now from floating into this open ocean deep in our memories?
it is the bit of sea in us even now that is pondering this, isn’t it obvious? there is no barrier to this
©John Greenleaf-Maple 5/1/17