The Shallows

It reached out to me as I lie still in shallow waters. I did not move an inch. Not a finger, not an arm, not a leg as I reminisce. The air stirred slightly carrying west while I lay here to ask what’s next but the question needs no answer. Clouds drifted on, time never stopped, an itch crawling beneath my skin like cancer. I dreamt of the time we lost track of it all, lying still once more, regretting the call our alarm clocks had to scream in a few hours time. I wondered then what I wonder now: why?

It spoke with gentle firmness that my place was not to ask, rather my place is simply to be. Enjoy the sun, embrace the change, stop solving the things I cannot see. The shallowness grew deeper as I sloshed within the waves. “Lie still for a while,” It said, “let yourself drift without aim. You may not have it all right now, and that’s okay. Close your eyes, release the tension you’re conflicted with, and refuse to ask yourself what you missed. For as you look backwards from where you came, you will only see hurt and feel its pain. Let the waters take you, my dear, sweet man. It will bring you blissful joy, peaceful silence, and a firm but loving hand.