When I was a child… I was fascinated by the sensation of sitting at the bottom of the swimming pool …the drains tug on the liquid landscape that surrounded me…the world dancing around me in slow motion…an eerie glow cast upon everything that was habitually familiar…the clouds distortion barely visible through the swaying waters above…it was …somehow…comfort …in the sweetest sense…perhaps it was some primal, original dance as if in the womb…as if housed once more within the shelter of maternal delight …such a soothing salve of pacification has seemed elusive as life has stirred  me from my waterhole of non-want, non-need…non-fear…into the astounding, deafening, calamity that existence can become…I have found myself searching frantically for the drain…for the hush…for the waters edge and quickly the murky bottoms comforting escape…cradled, calmed, wooed by the silent caress of peace upon my skin…   silence, stillness …immobile tranquility…for all of it's loveliness, allure, charm…it has indeed unfolded in my more developed endeavors as …escapism…diversion…dodging…so very simplistic when compared to the mishaps and misfortunes that must be faced at times…I find myself  rising  from the depths of security  and ascending… gasping for breath at the surface of my life…

able to…

ready to….

scared to death to…..

move forward……

the difference?...Willing to…