Raft in the ocean blue

on Jul 10, 2017

I could tell that I lay on the remnants of a boat.  The wooden pieces made of shattered and broken beams were bound by tangled metal, tar, and rope. The heavy cords were intertwined, not by my involvement, but rather coincidence or divine intent. The now tiny raft, not much bigger than I, floated alone in a calm, unmoving ocean that stretched beyond the horizon.  The water shimmered, moved, and pulsed as the seas do, but it caused no motion in the raft for its waves were strong enough to shake leaves or seaweed had they rode atop them, but nothing more.  Not that there were such things, for the water was pristine.  I alone was the island floating in the expanse.  It was a deep blue.  The kind of blue that you imagine the ocean is before, upon visiting the sea, it is overwritten by reality. The kind of blue that children use to draw pictures of the water which they have yet to discover.


Her eyes were that blue too.  Oh, how her eyes reflected the heavens and swept me away in their sapphire brilliance. I was looking into the heart of young stars still burning blue, yet stars, whom when looked upon, didn’t hurt my eyes.


I was frozen on my lifeboat improvised by fortune.  I lay, unmoved on my back with head turned facing my left shoulder.  My left arm and hand lay beside me, but in line with my face, as if I had reached to remove my glasses, but then fell asleep mid process.  My right arm was at my side.  I felt a heavy exhaustion over my body, as if the air were pushing down on me from above.  Whenever I closed my eyes, I had the sensation of accelerating upwards into the sky and could even feel the raft move with me. Upon opening my eyes, this illusion would dissipate for the raft and I were still both motionless. I was held in place by some invisible force that, with each breath, seemed to increase and push me further downward into the wooden boards.  This too was a trick of the senses as each inhale had an equal experience without ever growing in intensity.  It was a deception that did not diminish and one for which I did not learn to accommodate.  Each time I closed my eyes, I would be quickly convinced that indeed, this time, we were moving.  With each breath I was sure that I would not be able to inhale for the downward pressure was too great.  Alas, I would open my eyes or take air again into my lungs and dispel my own conclusions, only to face the same quandary moments later upon doing it again.  I surprisingly did not tire of such confusion, for each time was a game that I had never played before and I was sure that each time I would be able make sense of the discrepancy with my perception and reality. To this end, I am unsure how much time passed, for though the sky was cloudless, the sun was behind me and I couldn’t see its movement.  And though the shadows did not perceivably travel upon the surfaces they were cast, this too must have been an illusion, for I am convinced that I was in this state for indeterminate but significant amount of time.


You mustn’t be afraid nor panicked at this description, for I was nether. Though I could not move, I had no urge to. It was as if my body was asleep, and I had no reason to wake it. It was peaceful and only the gentle sound of the water lapping the edge of my dilapidated wreckage and the cool breeze through my tattered clothes sang their lullabies. The warmth of the sun, soft and not unbearable, mixed with the rhythm of my breathing, and in time with the song the wind and the waves, I was coaxed in to my slumber.  With my eyes closed, I was whisked away from this strange oasis and into the sky, but this time it was real.


I’m sure of it!