Wednesday, July 28, 2004
The Sleeping Tide
Feeling subconscious again, no self in it, emoting from the place in me where I never reproach. Why must I panic in order to act? Why do I resent the intrusion, an excuse to go backwards to the place that is uncomfortable and safe. Dreams of mud and airplanes, run across the field to hide and bathe with an audience of people who never dared, bring the child along who can't relate and only store it for future thinking. Why show an infant far away places when everything around is new? I lay awake and spiral again, wondering how to make it all fresh or fold it all through, will the bubbles collapse or fizz all at once? Then I hear the sound and know that it was what I had always missed and yearned for, the waves I dream about that come and chase me, sand collapsing under my feet, I cling to anything in the sand but the water is cold and bubbly and hungry. I swim through the clumps and grains to rescue myself, why don't I believe I can swim? I hesitate, unwilling to take a risk even in my dreams. My thoughts wash from side to side, maybe that explains the crab motion, this way, that way, back again, what did I miss? Check it again. I want to be soothed, I want the ocean in me, I want the beach and the waves but I have always feared them, wanted to control my position as I bob on the untameable. I have found the wave tamer. I let his waves wash over me, cover me. I am the sand, washed clean every time, mixed and settled again, always constant and changing. Always a beach where the sand and waves meet. Trust meets the laws of physics. I close my eyes and am finally soothed.
Feeling subconscious again, no self in it, emoting from the place in me where I never reproach. Why must I panic in order to act? Why do I resent the intrusion, an excuse to go backwards to the place that is uncomfortable and safe. Dreams of mud and airplanes, run across the field to hide and bathe with an audience of people who never dared, bring the child along who can't relate and only store it for future thinking. Why show an infant far away places when everything around is new? I lay awake and spiral again, wondering how to make it all fresh or fold it all through, will the bubbles collapse or fizz all at once? Then I hear the sound and know that it was what I had always missed and yearned for, the waves I dream about that come and chase me, sand collapsing under my feet, I cling to anything in the sand but the water is cold and bubbly and hungry. I swim through the clumps and grains to rescue myself, why don't I believe I can swim? I hesitate, unwilling to take a risk even in my dreams. My thoughts wash from side to side, maybe that explains the crab motion, this way, that way, back again, what did I miss? Check it again. I want to be soothed, I want the ocean in me, I want the beach and the waves but I have always feared them, wanted to control my position as I bob on the untameable. I have found the wave tamer. I let his waves wash over me, cover me. I am the sand, washed clean every time, mixed and settled again, always constant and changing. Always a beach where the sand and waves meet. Trust meets the laws of physics. I close my eyes and am finally soothed.
// posted by Beagle @ 1:51 pm 
