Water – Stephanie Kurniawan

Do you know what I think is weird?
I, spiritually, consider myself to be one with water more than any other elements.

Like the way rain forms droplets on the I always watched them roll down the panes
And reform into glass beads that set against the gray sky.

How the still clouds float in the sky.
How I always thought they looked like a flat painting,
And no matter how far we drove,
they still remained stationary.

Or the rain pounding on my face.
How people run away from it,
as I embraced it.

Or watching the waves dance across the beach shore
along with the sand crabs.
And how I followed their disappearing and reappearing
footprints.

Or the water passing by every crease of my body while I swim.
How the sensation of flight, comfort, and ease seem to be mixed.

A gentle underwater world.
A place where you can’t seem to hear anything
but your own strokes.
A place where worries don’t seem to matter,
as long as you keep on kicking.
Where you can see the sun’s ray filter to the bottom,
making ripples on the tiled floor.
A feeling of safety and restriction.

However, sometimes these comforts are not always with when I see the deep blue sea out on a boat,
I mostly see its beauty and expanse.
Yet there is always a slight fear of that blue ocean.
The fear of the unknown,
the feeling of not being able to control your fate in this wide expanse of blue.
The constant repetition of waves and eerie stillness that ironically seems unnatural.
A deep blue sea, said to be full of life, seems be only of emptiness.
An impenetrable blueness.
Again is a feeling,
a feeling that something musr disturb those waves,
and give back life to it.

Yet as I watch at the shore of the beach,
the waves coming in and out touching the earth,
I can’t help but feel both relaxed and anxious.

I feel calm as the waves tease my feet.
But I can’t help but feel uneasy for
I don’t fully understand my choice to sit here on this beach.
Half-thoughts swirl around my head
as I sit there hypnotized by the waves.
I guess not everything has to make sense.