Mother Ocean

The sun blazes down, turning my shoulders into a lobster red.

The blue-green-grey water is cold—but not too cold—against my body.

Seaweed scratches against the tops of my thighs, making me itch. 

I gaze at my friends through my sunglasses, watching them play in the water;

And while I know I should revel in the sweet carefreeness of the day,

I cannot help but look out to the waters that stretch ahead of me.

My head rolls back as I close my eyes, feeling the waters against my heated skin.

There is splashing and shrieking and laughing and shouting as I sway with the waves.

The water calls to me: it beckons to me. 

No, not it. She. She, Mother Ocean, coaxes me.

I breathe the sea salt air, letting the wind fill my lungs as thoughts swirl through my mind.

What if I allowed myself to be swept out to sea? To let Mother Ocean carry me away: far, far away from this life?

To become one with nature and live forever in a watery grave, where the unbeknownst things will keep my soul company.

And it is not until I am splashed, waking me from my reverie, that I shake the thoughts away.

Mother Ocean can have me another time.

_______________

Originally penned November 1, 2020.