floating here, under the moon’s pale blue light, it takes nearly no time before I, myself, become the water.
the flow of it, and its’ uncertain source, its’ nonexistent end, its’ unknown depth and its’ continual movement—it’s me—my breath.
before the water—nay, for the water—is my awareness.
the water, and myself, we both are but an object of awareness—swirling.
thoughts about this water—thoughts about myself—my conscious mind is but a witness, while awareness simply lies in wait—the depth of blue beneath us both.
just a log now, a log adrift, I marvel in awareness of my breath—the water.
each inhale I swell with the sea, and each exhale a new inhale crests white.
saturated, and fully alive, I float here in sopping wet gratitude for my breath and the sea.
life—awareness—breath—they simply live through me, while i—the body—dissolve into nothing.