Transparent, elusive, you’re body speaks with fluid patterns to my moist inner psyche. I feel you run through my toes and chill my calves with desolate screams on ice, and yet the image of you is plentiful, calming and pure. As the light twinkles on the surface of your reflective depths, I ponder at the life that swirls underneath. How could a life survive in a world that would not be suited to my personal needs? What would they be feeling? What does it feel like to breath in liquid? I step back and the hard rocks made of solid earth press painfully into the souls of my feet. My world seems dry, harsh and ephemeral compared to the silky cold and eerie depths of the ocean. We came from the water; life in its home, its purest form comes from the water. If I return to the source, where I have evolved from, will I know myself more truly? I love to return to the silky and cool water. I feel at home there. I feel held, like in the womb of my mother. I have never seen or felt anything more beautiful than this most essential element. I am made of it, I drink it to survive, I was surrounded by it in the womb, and all life was born from its depths.

Walking now, away from the salty shore, I return to the life of a land dweller; the heavy weight of my very own bones compress on each other. I feel the wear of decades spent at the mercy of the dry air and gravity of the land. I accept this life, though. Water still essential in many ways to my soul, spirit and body, I have evolved to the realm of the rock. I breathe the air, that much closer to flight from this planet, and the wind caresses my hope that enters through the pours on my supple skin. I am rock, and water. I hope to ascend into the sky, or explore the sky in my dreams. But there is so much security in the earth and I am thankful that my feet have a place to stand. I myself am a rock, to other souls and to myself. Rock on little sister, perhaps someday you will take flight. There is no turning back.