My Soul Sighed

About a week ago, I spent a few days at the beach (yes, that very small part of my story was true). While the past year has been incredibly rewarding and stretching, it has also been one of the most exhausting times in my life. Balancing work and school and life has been hard, and while my first year of grad school was incredible, there were nights I lay on the couch and wondered how I could do it for another day.

In the midst of this, I felt myself pulled to the beach. I have never really been a beach gal, and we rarely went to the ocean when I was growing up. Living in land-locked Colorado for the past six years has meant that trips to the beach take planning and funding and I just haven’t really thought about it that much. But in the middle of homework and late hours at the office, I began to crave the beach in a way that I never have before. So, in the course of a few weeks, I found a dear friend to stay with, booked my plane ticket, bought a new bathing suit and headed to Florida.

And on that first morning, as I walked across the cool white sand, breathing in air thick with salt and humidity, I felt something inside me loosen. I walked along the shore, the sand turning to liquid beneath my feet, and everything felt right.

But I really knew that I had done something necessary when I sat in my beach chair, my feet buried in the sand, and wrote a poem. I don’t even remember the last time I wrote a poem. Something about the rhythm of the waves, the stillness of the horizon, the sun on my shoulders, drew the words out of me. I have no notions that it is anything extraordinary–but as my pen scratched across the page, and the waves crept closer, I swear I felt my soul sigh.

Unravel

Today I stepped into the ocean
Hungry for the water’s relief.
I feel the waves pull the stress away,
Draining it from
My neck
My shoulders
My chest
My stomach
My legs
My ankles
My toes.

The sand, soft and liquid
Pulls me forward
I slip deeper
Waves slapping against
My toes
My ankles
My legs
My stomach
My chest
My shoulders
My neck

No further though.
My face remains dry
Turned upward
Facing the clouds
Salty lips spilling praise

I finally turn back
Fighting against the tide
Close to shore the water is cloudy
Sand bites and scrapes
My footing is unsteady

I sit in my chair, exhausted
Breathing the tangy air
The ocean dries on my skin
While the sun burns
My neck
My shoulders
My chest
My stomach
My legs
My ankles
My toes