Chasing The Dawn

Earlier this morning, as my beloved departed to her early opening-hours shift at Das Kaffehaus, I stretched out my arm across her empty place beside me… the sheets were already cooled from her absence.

Restless, I knew that any return to sleep would be a futile and lazy decision.

Though the light of Dawn had yet to encroach upon the morning, I knew that I had to arise and awaken my sleeping sensibilities.

Wearing only a light shirt and shorts against the morning chill, I sprint out into my backyard… and further, crossing small creeks in single bounds and racing through hidden trails in my bare feet.

Even as the cold ripples my bare skin, sweat glistens my forehead. I build my speed into break-neck, careening around bends that send rodents sprawling through the underbrush.

My breath grows heavier as my legs begin to burn; through salty sweat tears, I see a faint orange glow upon the distant horizon. I lean forward, desperately keening onward in eager insignificance… the shore seems so far away. A thorny vine snags my shirt, tearing it across the chest. Without slowing down, I pull the shirt over my head and leave it ensnared in the brambles.

A deep purple-indigo sky garnishes herself with blushes of pink along the soft underbelly of her few silver clouds. Tides break against the rocks, as Gull and Crab still slumber. I do not feel the gentle breeze that whispers across the treetops… I am, myself, a raging Tempest. Prospero, I cast myself into the Sea.

Surcease, I see the Sea; the Sea is in sight. Relief floods my brow and fills my chest with fresh wind. I stretch my legs in a crescendo, longing for the minor fall and the major lift.

I reach the sandy shore and frothing breakers, my feet splish flitter across the shallow surface and I leap into the air… arms outstretched, I fall forwards… outwards, downwards, inwards.

The Sea, a longing lover, grips me in a passionate embrace… she compels me join her beyond, `neath the watery depths. I give myself completely, releasing myself of the burdens of walking upright. Hovering. Above. Gone.

Exhausted, burning but chilled, I can only float over the wavering crests… drifting further out to Sea. The shore grows smaller and smaller, and I can only look up into the circling Sky.

Beaten raw and bruised feet are soothed by the healing waters, knotted shoulder and back muscles are loosened with ease… I am Arthur in Avalon, I am saint George in the morning Dew. I am drifting further and further still.

At last, the Sun rises over the face of the waters, light explodes across the surface of the Sea. Bleary blues are cast aside, as the fire of Day awakens all living things.

Reason and conscience, the Light brings also… I lament how far I have wandered.

I right myself in the water, and pull towards land.

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