Monday, February 24, 2014


I held my breath, covered my nose and closed my eyes before  jumping in.

It was a long quiet drop and I barely made a sound as my feet, and then my legs, and then the rest of me first touched the water before being engulfed by it.

Once in I opened my eyes to find that everything was as in my dreams.

There were mermaids and seahorses, and other creatures I’d lost hope could still exist.

I could hear the voices from afar calling and reminding me that the other world existed, but they were muted by the water and I was too distracted to pay any heed.

The nights were long and restful. There was no fear or anticipation. Anxiety had stayed afloat, outside, unable to let go, to sink in.

Time was still and plentiful. So we rested after every game and played after every rest. It was the time of childhood, when there is still time to wait for the caterpillar to cross the path.

There was freedom in the certainty of togetherness and carelessness in the knowledge that there were no distractions. There was nothing urgent and only the quietest of needs prevailed. The important silent ones.

Crickets sang in the distance as we watched the moonrise over the horizon. The earth grumbled in a quiet and un menacing way. And when we reemerged into reality we did so in peace, filled with solitude and calm. Reborn.