Mysteries Of The Deep

I awoke at three AM and couldn't get back to sleep. My mind drifted to the sea as it often does.

There is the beach. Bright haired blonds play there in their orange and pink and blue bathing suits. The waves come in like little playthings. There is laughter and cigarette butts. Those that go in and out, push forward bullying there way through the silly waves. No danger here. Far too shallow. Small fish in small waters.

It is familiar and secure however. We can see towers of mortar and steel guarding over it's creators on the edge of nature. We can drag our bags and towels across the parking lot and get into our pale gas bombs that some slick salesman waxed on about it's beauty. Salesmen even too shallow for the beach.

But where my mind went in this nether region of the night. This three thirteen AM, Was to the deep. Far off the continental shelf where the water turns deep blue and then black. Danger lurks everywhere and even your feet cannot be seen. No Starbucks in the distance. No steel and mortar. No one to save you from the tide.

It is here in the unknown depths where I know not which mountains lie beneath me, that I like to play. Here great, dark thoughts swim through like great whales who know not the pull of gravity nor the foolishness of man's inventions.

It is in these depths, that I have come across a woman whose coffee is good and her stories wonderful. But you must come in through the back door, she warns. The bright-haired blonds use the front. And it is noisy.

And down deep where the silence echoes, I met a beautiful woman with piercing eyes and the just-so-right hat. She drifts among the trenches and fights mortality with her own brand of mojo.
She comes into view like a shadow from nothing and smiles, accepting my presence. Then continues on to further explore her own depths. There are many like her in these deep waters
who I have yet to bump into.

The beach woke me up. The deep sang me to sleep.