Prose

In a Sea

In a sea, the crowd surrounds. I’m drowning in the waves of voices, crests of faces, and unknown places. With each lonely walk in busy street, it overtakes me. Takes over me and pulls me under; an undertow of empty expressions and silent sorry’s. The blue sky turns a concrete grey as the crowd pushes down.

You appear in the crowd but not like the crowd. Your eyes cut through the heavy swells. A beacon. That beacon of light shines hope, piercing the deep blue waves bearing a direction.

“Swim this way. Fight towards me—for me. Don’t let the sea hold you down.”

The waves fight strong just as I fight my fears. There’s a cold comfort in the depths of the crowd. The dark shadows on the bottom of the sea blend faces together making me like everybody else. It makes my mistakes unknown and hides my brokenness. Just like everybody else.

But that’s not what I want. I want the warmth of the sun on my shoulders. I want the mid-day sun to be our strength. Like each day the sun will set, it will rise, and we will rise.

So I fight just like you tell me. I fight the sea and myself. I push through the crowds, rising and falling in the tides of strangers. The currents inside me flow for me and against me; up to the sun and your beacon, and down deeper into cold anonymity.

The water is warmer near you. It washes what the murky water left behind and revives what the cold water had drawn away. The waves calm and the crowds thin as I near your brightness. I break the surface and gasp for breath, grasp for more, and fight to keep.