(no subject)
The World in Stillness
The sea was as stagnant as a plate of glass. It reflected the great big ball of fire in the sky and the puffy smoke clouds off its translucent face. Softer than the skin of a newborn baby, I felt if I touched it, just fragile enough, and brushed the back of my hand across its face, I might melt into it. The sea slept for forty days and forty nights, frosted over, hibernating for the winter. It puffed white smoke out of its mouth and its skin was hard and biten with cold. But its heart hugged the Earth, and the Earth returned the favor. The sea was a cup spilled over onto the floor. The water splashed onto houses and cars, trains and boats, hotels and parkways. That left someone to clean up the mess. A giant roll of paper towel should take care of that. The sea was a giant bathtub. Cleansing your withered body. Cooling your sun drenched skin. Wrapping its body around you and coming into you. The ecstasy. The sea was a highway. Boats traveled on it, swerving in and out of it between countries. The sea was a buffet full of underwater goodies for humans to choose from. And dinner always came as a surprise that night. The sea was a wishing well to cast all our dreams and hopes into, and pray they will come true. The sea was the eye of God, the pupil looking at you, watching you with love. The sea was the sea. Is the sea. Will be the sea.