Handful of beach—of sand and blue glass and eel grass and clam shell, of headlamp, of two moon snail shells the size of softballs, of cold fingers missing the pull through saltwater
Head full of thoughts—of wishes gazing out from an empty shore, of hopes for a kinder world, a more balanced world, a planet blooming with growth and new life, resilient and strong and free, of my endless need for the next swim or plunge maybe tomorrow when I can set these thoughts free, raise the anchor and set sail on flesh and bone and the memories of my muscles alone
Heart full of longings—for solitude and forgiveness and understanding and acceptance, for a prayer to include every being that hurts or is lonely or broken or lost or angry or hungry or thirsty, for a bigger heart to hold it all, endlessly expanding to the edges of everyone and everything
Ears full of voices and heartbeats—of little waves over little rocks, of distant cars rolling home from jobs or to jobs or the hospital or a friend’s house or the store, of nesting birds sharply warning me to mind my step, of pieces of songs from my own lips reminding me how the lyrics go, of my sons’ deepening voices saying goodnight and good morning and I love you and I’ll be back soon and I’ll be okay and watch me and just listen, of every heart beating in every creature below the waves, of my own heart drumming away beside the waves along with every other living being, steady
Eyes full of color and shape—of fading light and navy blue shadows over grey blue water, of a fuzzy moon hanging a night light in the cloudy sky, of far off headlights moving northward and southward in a band of black land beneath a darkening sky, of two ducks diving in tandem like synchronized swimmers then reappearing together to bob effortlessly over hills of water
Today full of life —at the water’s edge. At the beginning and end of everything.
Mary Swims 
🍁🥀💕🌙💕🥀🍁