Love/Water

I love to get to the Natatorium early 

to watch the swimmers.

Very often there are large groups 

either practicing or warming up for competition.

The sounds of the water and the rhythm of 

people moving up and down the lanes

is both mesmerizing and comforting.

None of the pictures I've taken so far of

the swimmers has captured the fascination

I feel by the almost balletic routine

of their movements.

While swimming myself, I sometimes 

think of the swimmers and try to emulate 

their long line, keeping my body straight 

and toes relaxed yet pointed.

"Relaxed." Yeh, that's the big thing for me;

I don't think about going fast, I think 

"Technique, technique, technique. 

Technique fast, technique fast, technique fast." 

My body comes up "on plane" and I feel 

as though the water is zooming by me.

It makes a difference.

I count my laps. I count my strokes.

I cast a glance at the clock

and then turn my eyes toward the bottom

of the pool to begin again,

another step in my odyssey to achieve a dream.

My love for you is like water.

Clear as crystal, its currents weave through,

creating inclusions, weaving, changing

yet always there, adding depth

and bands of color, rainbows of feeling 

from the darkest indigo

to the happiest of yellows.

Fight it and you flounder.

Rest quietly and it will support you,

carrying you to the other side

as quickly or as slowly as you may care

to go, but always there.