Walking the tight rope

I am mute.  I walk the tight rope.
My savings becomes nearly obsolete.  No work.  I head to Orvis.  It is refuge for my soul. Surrounded by the San Juans I find my breath.  I float on my back as cold rain falls.  A holy baptism. I dive under the water with darkening skies overhead.  I am anonymous, boundless and free.  The sounds of the world are muted and distant.  In a symphony of silence my mind dissolves.   Breathe my love, breathe. I touch the silken green of summers moss, like the hair of a newborn.  I stroke it lovingly.  This naked intimacy I have longed for. The rocks of the pool form a little shallow where my body curls into amphibian form, non-human.  I follow my breath.
I pray to my beloved in every language my body knows.  I pray for the means to live.  I call to the knowing One within myself that has no fear, that trusts even when my heart stops beating.  Come to me I whisper.  In a moment all of the noise disappears.  I relax into the warmth of the water, the stillness of the well.  I feel my own presence.  Here my life is weightless.
The roots of my belonging are being severed.  As my financial resources are exhausted I grow pale. The marionette of my mortal attachments pull on my heart .  I am suddenly aware of the requirements I have made of my life, the demands that make me weary.  What do I need?  I come back to my breath to the soft sand beneath my feet, to my unquestioning faith. Does the ocean refuse the tide?  I let go of my effort, I let go of the struggle.  I wrap my arms around the water that holds the chill of my body. Why mourn?  “There is nothing that is without purpose.”  The voice rises above the tsunami of my fear.  “Surrender, surrender, surrender to love.”
I will be what I Am.  Every moment a new history is born.
santidevi