It was three of us who wadded out.
We had to go a long way. I was surprised looking across this great lake that this far out it could be waist deep. But we had to find the edge.
The water was cold at first touch. Wadding in with goose bumps. Once one summons the courage to fully submerge, one finds that it is not that bad.
Only three of us went, though there were ten at the shore. Ten brave seekers with nothing to find.
I for one
My comrades for three
Needed to know
We were different
One amongst us, normally quiet, with an air of distrust, laughed as he dashed against the on coming waves. He smiled and threw his hands to the blue sky. I could see in his face—or was it only in his eye—that he gave thanks to the ground below his feet, the water incasing his legs and the breeze letting him know that he was being anointed with the air around him.
Spraying water with thrusts of feet
The other among us, happy to be there. Veteran of journeys within and without. New story to tell. New something to do. Diving under to feel the cold on skin. Wetting hair not to make clean, but to feel it wet. As he shakes his head droplets of water run to the ends of his hair, leap from the strand to form droplets, suspended only momentarily, then like they had never existed, or left their home, disappear back into the waving mass.
Not far over
A long way
There has to be an edge. We must see the boundary. We must know where we can survive by treading alone. On the shore others sit. Most not aware of our quest, or at least only visually aware that we are far off. A couple wishing they were with—only a couple.
Has to be soon
I am drawn. I am pulled as if by a current, into the face of the head of the wind, yet it’s like a sail carrying me forward. I am not lost. I only seek to find. Everything is a box, I tell myself. I do not fear the edge, I embrace it with wonder.
Bending my knees I kneel on the bottom, tilting my head to the sky. Sucking the air, as water threatens my mouth with each approaching ripple of wave.
We tread laughing for a long time. From sounding the bottom we know that it drops off here. We let ourselves sink, the water envelops our up-stretched finger tips, hit the soft silty bottom and push up. Now we know where we stand, treading water looking back at the shore.
Looking into the sky
Wisps of white
Contrasting the water
Wind at our backs
Engulfed in the space that has allowed me to slip into itself, form fitting as a mold, exact replica of me. Opening my eyes I see through the blackness of this space and can pick out my companions, who also submerged could be stars far off in this galaxy.