I had a dream. I was reading my poems to you, my face hidden by my leather bound notebook. You were loving me and the sanctity of the moment. You couldn’t seem to keep your eyes away from the light haloing my flushed face. I have never felt more innocent and bold at the same time. I wanted to cup your cheeks with my hands and just gaze into your eyes all night. But you needed to hear my voice. So, I read my poems to you one by one and filled our room with whispers of love and longing, of beauty and hope, of passion and honesty. We both claimed something that was ours and sailed away on calm silken seas, ready to brave tempests together…never to feel lost and alone again. ❤
Ed. July 2, 2019 | Originally written: What now feels like a lifetime ago
She takes off her hat and kicks up small splashes amongst the waves. She inhales long breaths of the sea air, which clear her head. Possibly the ones observing her speculate then about the manner in which delight seems to overtake her and to fill her with the joy of anticipation. And are surprised as she is by her acceptance of her fate. For in the space of time it has taken to walk from the seawall to the sea, perhaps the distance of a hundred yards, she has passed from being a girl, with a child’s pent-up and nearly frenzied need to sweep away the rooms and cobwebs of her winter, to being a woman. — Fortune’s Rocks (Anita Shreve)
I imagine that might be a bit like how I welcomed the waves at sea, sans the part about discovering desire, of course. Mine’s more of recapturing that feeling of blissful freedom every time I reunite with the sea.
It was dark. Whatever bit of light we had came from artificial sources. Even the moon and the stars chose to conceal themselves. The sea was a huge rolling mass of darkness. I was hypnotized by the sound and sight of waves crashing on the shore; I just had to see it all up close. I picked up my slippers and walked to the shore slowly, tentatively, as if every imprint I left on the sand, every step mattered. I skirted dangerously close to the water’s edge, letting small waves lap at delicate feet. The water was very warm and inviting indeed; a contrast to the slightly chilly air. I was excited. A splish, a splash. I kicked my feet playfully, delighting in the feel of both water and sand caressing my feet. I could smell the salt in the air, every breath reinvigorating both body and soul. I was awestruck as I took it all in–the semi-darkness and the rough waves, both a magnificent and terrifying sight. I decided to flirt with danger and be a little adventurous. I ventured a little further, advancing as though I would brave every wave head on, and then retreating when it almost crashes to my knees. I pulled my dress up so it wouldn’t get wet. Then suddenly I felt it–that familiar feeling of pure bliss, as if all my inhibitions fled and I was left standing there for all the world to see–real and vulnerable. I waded a little, splashed a little, laughed and smiled a lot. I almost couldn’t contain it–this love affair with the sea.
I have always been drawn to the hypnotic beauty of the full moon. In my imaginings, if I had lived in ancient or mythological times, I would’ve been one of those woodland nymphs who wore flower crowns and flowing white dresses, or wise women who braved the wilderness at night and cast aside all their worldly concerns to dance in ecstasy under the light of the full moon. And while I’m very much aware this would be labeled as pagan today (I don’t care much about labels, anyway), I still find the thought empowering. That these women harnessed power, beauty, mystical wisdom, and seduction into their physical forms, to use however they saw fit. These days, spiritual gurus say you can indeed harness the powers of the full moon by setting your intentions–anything you want to release and let go of. Since I can’t just go out into the woods and dance under the full moon (too many real world dangers at present to make this happen), I’ll settle for this instead.
I want to let go of people who have been untrue and have hurt me in any way. People who I gave my heart to once–my secrets, my innermost thoughts and feelings. Even those who at some point I considered family or someone I could entrust my life to but have done irreparable damage to the trust I gave them. There’s no going back now. But I do not regret the love and trust I gave away for it was my choice to give it to them wholeheartedly. They were learning experiences in my personal journey and soul growth. I can forgive, but it sure is a big damn well of relief to know that it’s okay to let them go for my own good, so thank you for all the things I learned from you. I am the strong woman I am today because of the painful but necessary changes I went through.
I also want to release doubts, worries, and fears dampening my enthusiasm for life. I am magic, I have power, I can create, I can make things happen. Most of all, I can write. And I can love. Strip away everything–all the titles and achievements and awards. All your money and material possessions. What’s most important is your ability to love and be loved.
All those times you were searching blindly for happiness and answers to your own questions in others–that time has ended now. What you wanted was yourself all along–whole and powerful. What you wanted was freedom and independence from anyone and anything preventing you to be your true self, to bloom and to shine. What you needed was to find love, strength, courage, and peace within yourself.
I thought she was the epitome of youth and naiveté . She turned to me, a ghost of a gasp on her mouth and said I was radiant. And with the setting sun haloing my profile, I truly felt I was glowing from the inside out. Since we were nobodies at the party, we were free to roam the Spanish courtyard and the lawns near the golf course. As soon as I saw the turf with a clear view of an open sky, I couldn’t hold back my desire. I had to share it with someone. So, I took a chance. I told her how I’ve always wanted to walk barefoot on an open field in a gown or a slip of a dress–it doesn’t matter. I just want to feel the sharp, cool, tingly blades of grass under my feet, then lift my arms and face in praise of beauty, earth, and sky before me. I seriously thought she would think me weird. So I was surprised when she suggested that we take off our dainty heels and indulge, with as much rapt eagerness as was flowing from me mere seconds before. That was what we did. She in immaculate white, me in mermaid green. Barefoot, heels discarded beside a random bush. It was one sensually liberating moment for me.
Originally written: September 22, 2011 (Livejournal)