There is a howling stirred into the whispering of infinite molecules. The sound of water pulled toward a shore, a shore it does not know exists. Water pulled around the world and out of silence, it rises, curls in on itself, folds over itself, a momentary spiral hovers despite gravity, and then, it sings! And in this moment I hear a crashing wave.
So I search. I move myself toward the edge of land. Through a young forest and tall grasses, down a path worn by innumerable bodies. I emerge from this shelter, from this closeness, into wind. I feel the ground alter, softer, finer. It compresses with my weight. I create craters on a beach and here I remember the howling. It is no longer audible. Robin Hood has stopped calling me, rather he is now in duet with the sea. I am calm simply knowing he is present and for the first time I become aware of the absolute darkness. No stars, no moon. No light. My feet and my ears have carried me to the edge. I have trusted them without a recognition of what trust is. In this, I am a child.
With my next step I touch sand which is harder, cooler. I push my toes through the pliable material, and grains push back into me, into the space around nails. And as I am experiencing this sensation, the water, the tide, the sea, advances toward me and toward the moon on the other side of the earth, and I meet a crashing wave.
All movement. One stream of water flows to the space behind me and already, though we have just met, a lower stream has curled inward to caress me on its way back to the sea. It spirals around my heel and sneaks beneath, melding with the sand. It plays with the wispy hairs on my feet and grasps at my toes and my toes grasp back, not to hold but to to feel more. And with this last collaborative action, me, the sea, the sand, we sink toward the center of the earth, and I am not afraid of anything at all. In this, I am a child.
I began moving toward the Black Hole once I had understood its presence. Rather then falling into it, I consciously slide toward it, toward immersion. I choose joy and trust and build a ritual to catalyze my journey. I wait under the sky, in wind and openness. I witness the twilight’s receiving of the night. Azure to cobalt to black. Others appear, energy builds. An anticipation swells as we wait at the edge of closeness. We are the undercurrent which precedes the wave, and we are the approaching wave, which will crash, in its time, the only way it can. Here, now, together, a slumping of molecules.
There is a transfer of potential to kinetic energy. I discard clothes, shed the skin society has thrust on me, and I choose rather, my adornments, my tools. I drape myself with a handmade mantle and a chain. I mindfully select the leash that had tethered me, and I command it. I imbue it with desire and intention.
The chain is long. I rest it on my neck, and cross the two ends over my chest. They wrap around my body, over my hip bones, cross again at the base of my back, one more circle and they meet together above my cunt. Here I bind them. And to this day, no one has seized my chain on their own accord, without my consent. So I continue to trust.
I am closer to the edge. So close there is a vastness, as molecules and time are salt-water-taffy-pulled-apart. I drift with the current our wave has now morphed into. Toes first, I float upwards, into a warmth, into animated atoms. Soundwaves caress my feet. My hairs extend away from my body, reaching to meet the energy, to feel more. My hairs whispers to my skin.
"We are close!"
Energy licks me, laps at me. My chain subtlety, so softly, vibrates with the deepest of soundwaves. It is the sea swirling around me.
Molecules vibrate, are summoned and pulled. I release my mind and submit to movement. No awareness of the self. In this, I am a child.