The water sings its siren song and invisible forces tell me to go
a transition
Original notes
I trudge behind the others and we all have our swimwear on and one by one they reach an edge and yes they stop for a moment and I feel them flopping down, and there is no sound or call because the sound of water drowns all, and we are in a bar at some spa and it is time to take our water, and I am the last, no one else, and I see an edge and I come to it and I stop, and has the light gone, and the floor has changed, yes it is metallic now, and I look over the edge and I stop because it is clear I have no business here, cold and almost naked, yes no business here, and yet there must be a reason, there must be, they will say he needed a transition, they will say that afterwards, and I think why did my feet bring me here, who forced them, was it me, no, why would I do that, and if I just step over I’ll catch on something, it is not right to jump hard, I’ll hit the other side, break my leg, yes hit my head, and I look again and there are calm spots I might reach, yes I’ll jump there, that is where it heals, if I can just land in the calm place I will find me, yes I can be myself, but no, the calm spots will be raging waves by the time I jump, they will change while I am still deciding, and yet the water sings its siren song and invisible forces tell me to go, and I remember this scene, I remember it from the past, and if I remember that then I must be dreaming, I must be, and I need to wake, yes I’ll wake up and try to remember, I’ll wake up and hold it, the edge and the metal and the water that drowns all sound, and the others already gone, already down.
Image description
A top-down view of turbulent ocean waves, with shades of dark blue and white foam. The image is framed by a dark surface, possibly a ship deck, with two rectangular openings visible at the top. The background is predominantly black, emphasizing the movement of the water below.
John Unwin Photography 