sat by the ocean

c e r a m i c

I sit by the ocean with my toes in the sand
sunlight toys with the tips of her waves
as I spin a small chunk of a ceramic vase in my hand

it was a gift long ago from someone,
but I do not remember who,
all I remember is having it.

it split into three parts a year ago,
and now,
I play around with the smallest piece to occupy my hands
as my mind drifts away like driftwood on the water.

sunset flickers on the horizon to my left
but I fear not the darkness.
I know not to trust the ocean when all else sleeps
and I know to quiet my voice when she sings.

she is a cruel and unforgiving mistress,
capable of great destruction,
and yet,
here she is,
tame and soft and gentle at my feet.

the waves reach my toes
and I toss my small piece of ceramic to safety in the sand
as I inch forward and submerge myself in the water
sitting down so all that is below my waist is gone

the circle is forever
but this body is temporary.
it doesn't scare me.
it invigorates me.

what all can I do here
with these human friends I have?
one of them is the most human I've ever met
fingers trembling at thunder's call
while the other is wild as the ocean itself,
calling to me and pushing me off the edge.

I feel the pull.

I feel it all day and night.
I feel it when I sleep,
and when I wake,
and when I freeze.

the moon,
and the tides,
and the sun,
and the dust,
and the forest,
and the dirt—
they all call my bones home
but I am terrified.

my friend—
the one who is not human—
they call me, too,
because they feel the same pull.

we shall go together,
and never alone,
and we will find our homes.

but I do not know where I am going,
and the pull grows stronger every day,
and I am alone.

my blood boils in the sunshine.
am I awake yet?

my bones are covered in the forest's dirt, and my ribcage is rotten and filled with moss and wildflowers.
am I awake yet?

my limp body rests in a meadow with tall, yellow grass, smoldering in the heat.
am I awake yet?

the moon is in my chest and in my eyes and I am blind to follow her call.
am I awake yet?

I am covered in lavender oil and honey and nut and raw meat and rum.
am I awake yet?

I am full of tears and laughter and screams and whispers and emotions so powerful that I cannot speak them in any human language.
am I awake yet?

I am pulled to and fro by the holy mother that rests in the ground and conducts all that is real and all that is illusion.
am I awake yet?

yes, I am awake.
I am awake now.

are you?