A Sacred Refuge

I imagine that I left the womb reluctantly

Hesitating to emerge from the warm and comforting fluids

And fall from safety into a sterile and cold place

I was a Water Baby from the beginning, I am sure of it

Even now the water is my refuge

It oculd be a vast ocean, tinged with salt and muddy foam

A chlorine-soaked swimming pool, surrounded by concrete walls

A bubbling hot springs, smelling faintly of sulfer and other mysterious elements

A crystal-clear lake, filled with multi-colored rocks and clay-like red mud

That I smear on my face and hands, laughing with childlike delight

I dig my toes into the sand and feel the icy Pacific Ocean water swirling and churning

I strip my clothes off, fling myself into the waves, and stay as long as possible

Until my teeth chatter and my skin erupts with a rash of goosebumps

Only then do I drag myself out and leave until the warmth has returned to my flesh

I jump into the chlorinated water, strapping on my goggles and sinking underwater

Swim laps from one side to the other, pushing my way through the liquid barrier

My heart dances rapidly against my rib cage, and I imagine myself transforming

Into a frog, a dolphin, a river otter, a seal

Something other than human

I sink into a pool of steaming water, heated by molten rock deep in the earth’s core

My hair loose, my skin bare, my cheeks flushed, my heart and soul at rest for once

Better than any bubble bath, I bask in the natural heat and close my eyes

Dream of the next time I can escape the cars and chaos and computers

And escape to my own personal paradise

I jump fearlessly into a pure, snow-fed lake, so far from humanity and civilization

That an unearhthly hush surrounds the grassy shores

I feel the squishy seaweed under my feet and stare up at the turquoise sky

Swimming and diving and twirling, performing a wild water dance

Flinging my arms up and beaming at the sun

This is my home away from home

My second skin

My refuge