You, me, and the sea
You, me, and the sea. I feel you there at the shore, like you are waves lapping at the sand, sometimes quietly, other times more insistent. There is a power in you, drawing me back, making me stay, causing me to sit and stare out over you. Imagining you. Conjuring you. Your colors are emeralds and blues of various hues, and a depth that recedes into the darkest water. I like to meet you in the newness of morning. When I walk up to your edge, your warm waters welcome, then dare me to step in further. I comply until I am in over my head and you are salty on my lips, dripping off my eyelids and running down my face. Submerged in you, I smile at the sky. I met you in the year that was my worst. There was a golden quality to you, like the sparkle in a child's eyes undimmed by the world. It was kind of like looking at the sun. I had to close my eyes. Life intrudes, but I was drawn back to your shore. The air is different with you. The sky is bigger. The light brighter. The wind whispers...