The Swimmer

I am swimming in the sea

And

I feel strong, powerful

But

Not as strong and as fit as I once was.

Long ago I had hope for the future,

Long ago.

I draw myself through the water, against the current

And

Know that I can choose, at any moment, to turn and drift with the flow. Anytime. Easy.

The wavelets splash in my face, I can taste the salt.

I turn my head to the beach:

Golden sand, golden hair, golden flesh, golden people, golden ice creams, golden sun, golden times, ah yes, I remember them.

So near the shore

Yet

So far.

So near the shore

Yet

So far.

So easy,

Yes,

So easy, just to turn, to drift with the current.

I bring my arms together, pull them apart, feel the tension in my biceps, kick out

And

Move forward against the flow.

You see, I can do that, I am strong

But

Not as strong as I once was.

Fragments, whispers.

It would be so easy, just to turn, to drift, with the current, become the current, so easy

And

No one would see, no one would care.

Blue

And

Gold

And

Green.

Blue

And

Gold

And

Green.

Can you see what I see? Can you?

The whispered invitation, soft and subtle, of the sea…

So easy, so easy.

I turn, surrender to the current, as I knew I would

Then, then

Turn again, for the shore, the golden beach, the golden people.

It was good to tease, the tide, the current, destiny...