The Horizon

Envision the horizon, what's out there beyond the reach of our eyes, out in the distant skies. We want to find out but we don't want to compromise the safety of our tethered life, avoid trouble at all costs. We stand on the dock and look out at the sky, feel the breeze in our hair, we say that we care, our eyes scan the horizon, stop and stare at the vastness. Our eyes look past the seals while inside we are making deals with ourselves, maybe we can steal a few precious moments of day dreaming, soul screaming bliss, it's hard to miss something that you don't have. If you tried to swim then you would get fatigued, nothing to hang on to, no debris, no floating log, rescue dog. You wave to the clouds, it's your way of saying goodbye to this reality when in reality you can't leave because you don't want to risk losing the safety that grounds you, that makes you feel secure. Insecurity is not something you want to deal with, but there are some who might venture out past our one dimensional existence to experience life's simpler pleasures, brave the weather. Build a ship and set sail, strap in tight you're going to tell tale, of one who tried to stay back but failed, too much success had been inhaled. Exhaled washed up dreams and gasping breaths, sharp like the rocks that housed the ever so slippery sea mammals. The sharp rocks like a metaphor for her life. Sharp, jagged and lonely, or like the sea, so open, cold, empty. It was this shallowness that separated her from the lake as she could not see the life beneath it because she wasn't looking deep inside herself past supposed imagined flaws, squirming in the tight grip of a problem's jaws. She was excited for the day that she might change, but that day is way out of range in fact she doesn't have much of a chance, no will left to even prance but she's optimistic. Hopeful. You see her spirit is like the wind, careless and free, so she offers a silent plea, hoping that this agony of her lack of creativity will be swept away much like her hair in the breeze, throw away all the keys and beyond the clouds hope for an island. An island who's life is much more simple where she can enjoy the creative pleasures of life without being judged by those who are money hungry in it for themselves. Get away from the man in her life who causes her harm, this is her reprieve but she deceives herself in thinking that by coming here she is happy. It isn't getting away, maybe it is, but only for a day then it's back to his old ways, alcohol and constant defeat, as often as her heart beats, but as long as she still hears a murmur, then she is still alive. She has a plan to escape the man who hurts her in ways unimaginable. Maybe she'll get on a fishing boat, go afloat, then she can gloat because she will have escaped the grip that he had on her. She will explore the horizon, hoping to find her lost dreams somewhere on it's sandy shores, hope resonating from her pores, happiness that can't be bought at any store. Maybe she'll marry a fisherman, settle down have a new family on an island because that's always been her dream, but he doesn't allow her to dream now does he. He puts restrictions on things that shouldn't be restricted, her life is constricted and he's the one applying the pressure. It's so intense she is being bent and moulded into the perfect wife, but how can she live her life when she's living for everyone but herself. She lives in such a secluded place, every time a boat comes in her heart begins to race at an abnormal pace. She doesn't like such finery like silky lace, or a diamond like her sister Grace, no she likes the simple pleasures of life such as art and the scenery, she takes the time to stop and appreciate the greenery because she knows that sometimes the simplest things are the things that you will enjoy the most. The sights and smells of the sea, for her they bring her ecstasy and direction, it is her intention that life will bring her a divine intervention because for her the sea is her goddess and maybe one day she will be able to paint, live her life, become a saint, but for now she lives a different life. She can see the future now, the distant horizon and the island that is her sanctuary, a place of safety and compassion, a world without the needlessness of fashion, soon that fishing boat will come to take her away, it can only be a matter of days, then I won't have to put up with his reckless ways.

Then she comes to realizing it was all a day dream and it makes her want to scream but she better get back into the house before he gets home or it will be her fault when he takes it all out on her and she will have to apologize while he stands there and begins to criticize her because anything she does for him is never good enough. So she gives one last wave to the distant horizon, promising herself that one day she will visit it, then slipping her sandals back on, she scurries back across the sand towards home.