The Relationship Between The Sea and The Forest

(Florida 1992)

Would it be foolish if I wrote a story about us, you as you, and me as a forest?

In this story I will be withering away, with fallen trees, some young and unnaturally dying, and
peppered throughout are sprouts of hope. I could hear your voice from behind the curtain of falling leaves. You sound like the ocean, as my memories of being a seed come to me in sparks and discovery. I was once just a small vessel on the ocean. I had no memory of being born, or the small time I spent with my parents. The wind had taken me from familiar grounds into the highest of planes and I traveled with her for a while. She taught me how to love in joy and sing with my heart, and while I was trying to enjoy every minute, I had lost that wind. My body fell from grace, and I plunged into the sea. I dove deep and deeper, and my skin broke apart. I was lost. And before I could realize how deep I was I was drowning in darkness as my broken body felt colder and colder. I talked to the darkness, asking it for forgiveness. I called for the wind to take me far away again. No response. I told the darkness of all the greatest moments of my life, and how the wind had taken me so far in so short of time. And I felt warm. But it wouldn’t last long for that warmth to fade as I rediscovered each crack in my hull and how painful cold dark water could be to open wounds. I called her name over and over in my sleepless nights. But all I could hear was the absence of wind in my abyss.

To forget the wind.
When all hope is lost.

I believed again, I felt my body move forwards then upwards. My ears were flooded by the sound of cavitation as my body felt the rush of life move throughout me. It was you I said, and I drank more ocean. You moved me in a dance, with my body together with yours as we passed through the darkness into sunny waters. My spirit was now floating, and I looked to you to see if you can tell. You smiled, laughed, and called darkness sons of bitches. I held on as best as I could and then you threw me back into the air. I had forgotten this feeling, thank you, as I raced through the air. I had forgotten how to believe in miracles, thank you, as I eyed for land to rest my withered body in. I had forgotten my life before this one, as one moment passes into another. I started to live again, and as I grew stronger I grew roots and broke the ground. I held you in my flesh thinking of the current that brings live to the sea. I would grow larger, and see the years pass by. I still held on to you in hopes for your return.
I felt you every time it rained. I let out my arms and took you in as much as possible. You were the strength that helped me grow into a tree. You were the joy that brought on my sprouts. And what of this love that made this forest, without you, nothing would be of this place; just an empty desert.

For a forest, you have in your name, as the you as you, walks amongst me, and me. I’ll whisper you my secrets in return for your stay. And I will call the wind to yell your name louder than my leaves cracking beneath your feet could ever. Sing me a song, I’ll remember each tone and kiss as you carry on.
Take my roots and keep me away, for the story of you as you, and me as traveler continues.