There has been an uncanny chill in the air over Boston for much of the past two weeks.
Finally, on Wednesday the sun broke through the mid day damp, dissolving an eerie shadow of hurt and pain.
I wanted to go to Walden.
I imagined the pond.
Yet I sensed the fear in me.
The cold in Boston infused my bones.
And the water in Walden not yet warm.
Before I come to know this earth I am fetus. Sound, sight, impulses in a watery bubble.
I know no names. No words. Yet I feel. I feel so strongly that now, fifty five years later when I feel fear, I want to return to that place that is free of fear.
I swim into the bubble blow and hip roll left down right roll up as I watch the green sun beams waltz and sway in front. Me swimming into them. And bubble blow face left look right, the water is blue the sky is blue and the world is at peace in the rhythm of the bubble breath song that I sing.
This is what happens when I push through fear on Wednesday and go to Walden.
To the water that is my womb.