drowning

i grew up at the beach.. playing in tidal pools and thrilled with the discovery of a sandbar underfoot.  but where i found my greatest delight, in these jessica-sized oceans, i also had the saddest moments.  sometimes i found fish trapped in there... as a child, i imagined that they were relieved to be protected from the predators and dangers of the tremendous sea, but soon it was apparent to me (and them) that these perceived refuges were instead likely to be their demise. 

the fish trapped in these pools would sometimes fling themselves up on the sand trying to get back to the ocean.  there, they would flail about, hoping to be overtaken by the fury and power of a wave that would sweep them ironically to safety.  but, generally, that didn't work.  they would thrash about on the sand and eventually fall back into the tidal pool.  their suffocation temporarily stayed.  

as the tide recedes, tidal pools both warm and shrink.  these fish realize (or so i imagined) their slice of peaceful respite was not all they hoped.  the need for a larger body of water, the security and stability of open sea, the refreshing temperature brought by ever flowing currents - these once feared elements were desperately needed by the fish, in order to merely survive.  

over and over the fish fling themselves toward the sound of the surf in hopes that this time the foamy waves would be within reach.  but time and again, the fish fall exhausted back into the once refreshing, then tepid, and now dangerously toxic tidal puddle.  the oxygen depleted from the still water, the temperature hot to the touch, a stench would rise off these pools as all life died there.  

there's a place in my world too, in which i've dreamed of sanctuary and escape.  a place i imagined myself enveloped in a depth unlike most others and seemingly idyllic.  a place i could be submerged without drowning and yet held buoyant by the life swirling around me.

much like a tidal pool it has dwindled to a salty, scalding cesspool and i find myself flopping about on the sand, praying for a wave.  but instead drowning on dry land.  

d:  tidal wave

b:  master of the metaphor

g:  experienced breath-holder