the depths of the blue

I woke up in a dream the other day like I often do, though on this day it was deeper and almost dark. My mind was somewhere I'm not sure it has been before.

In the morning made my sister breakfast and cut her eggs and toast in the shape of love hearts.

In the evening I ran away to the sea, bare feet on earth carrying me fast. I lit candles in small caves, watched ocean winds eat the flames. I searched for something I didn't find until I was in a bath in my dear brother's home. Peace. It was in the words a person spoke and it filled my soul. I drifted into a dream different from the one I awoke in. The water turned cold but still I stayed and still I slumbered.

This magical piece of music played over and over and over again on this day. As I listened I thought.



 

People do things. People misjudge the depth of the deep blue. They jump from the highest heights and sink before they get a chance to swim. They get swallowed by the sea and then from the bottom of the blue they beckon for the moon to follow them down so that they might be able to see a way out. But mostly it doesn't. Sometimes a part of them wants to stay because this place is strangely comforting. The darkness of the deepest blue builds walls about them and sometimes they do stay. These are the people that make the waves. Some people start to kick their legs but never make it to the top. These are the people that make the sounds of the sea. The roar that they tell you is the water really isn't. It is those below that make the noise. The people that wake in the white wash and are carried on their feet again are fearful. They will whisper through the wind and wish for you to curse, not caress the blue. I say do. Do. The depths of the blue will refine you.