Post by electricmayhem on Apr 29, 2009 7:07:54 GMT -5
Our Little Ocean
Our home is underwater. There is a sea in our living room. My mother and I are swimming with the fishes, but you --- you are dead.
It took a while to get used to, but now we find it fascinating, our very own private ocean here in my home. We've learned new languages and invited friends over for card games, but no one has accepted.
My mother stays perched, frozen, on the roof, above water. I take her gently by the hand and coax her down into our little ocean. "It's okay," I tell her. "It's okay to let go."
We make new plans and break all promises, sailing out into the neighborhood --- our home, engulfed in waves, taken over by curious creatures of the sea, yet we do not drown. The water has not frozen yet.
This ocean was not made of tears or grief or sadness. This ocean was created with golden intention by change. What a beautiful way to live, to be stuck inside this strange new comfort. Everyone loves an underwater boy.
My mother and I are swimming with the fishes, but you --- you are dead.