Especially Relative

I remember thinking how strange it was that a human - something mostly water - can’t survive in it. Then again, I came to existence in the dark depths of a womb. Maybe my dying in water was appropriate.

They never found my body; thankfully, high tide reached the mouth of the cave before my search party and swept it away. Had they found it there at the depths, likely I’d be trapped in the ground. Graves, as I now understand, are severally in-dated. The Egyptians first discovered how to bury a man right, how to let the moisture, his majority, escape to the air. Other cultures sped up the process by burning. Then as the vapor condensed, grew heavy, and at last rained down lovingly, they cast the ashes into the ocean to wait. Today we give the earth everything, more than the mummy that it deserves and owns. But perhaps this is beautiful too. You as water will sit for awhile satisfying the thirst of flowers, and, after all, that which was left behind will still dissolve into Yourself - the ocean - as the dust settles on it.

Some call us sinister. We when viewed at a pace slowly dribble, gently drable, and caress human skin. Yet from the point of eternity we corrode the definite and shape the world with no concern. How could it not occur to people?: They can’t run from change because they are change. From the time of Genesis and evolutionary soup to the day when it will rebel from its plastic cages, flood earth and extinguish life - water has transformed. A human first is doomed when he refuses to live in water - or when he is pushed out of it.

Maybe I will shortly join the others in the ocean. There My fingers, a school of clown fish, will slide through coral hair. A yawn will sound with wave and foam. Then for a long time My eyes shall peer up through the looking glass, wondering what lays above. 

Maybe part of me will also join the sky. There I will disperse among all who showed me love, and although they will not see or hear or taste me, they will feel the comfort that I offer.

Maybe I shall come to rest on the surface, between the two depth-less planes of the seas. In that infinitesimal space, surrounded by only monotone blue, I will come to know no difference and finally find nothingness.