Jay Arish

I look to the future and I see a tidal wave.

It drags the water out from under my bare feet, and I am left standing in the soiled

sand. I feel trepidation as I take a step toward the tidal wave. A shell digs into the

sole of my foot and I step back. It hurts. It’s then that I hesitate, that I stop, that

tendrils of doubt begin to replace blood, and I freeze, I stare, I take another step

back. Behind me, the tan grains turn to quicksand, and I begin sinking into the

embrace of it, allowing the softness to shield me from the incoming wave, the

unknown, the hardships in the sand ready to tear my feet apart. In the comforting

clutches of the past I take refuge, calf deep and sinking further. Just as I begin to feel

safe, the sand turns cold, constricting, unforgiving, and I thrash, I fight, I struggle

away from the choking pain of resting in the past, and I run forward to the

unknowns of the blue sea.

In the massive wave I see myself, distorted by the current of the water. I don’t feel

afraid. The water crashes down.

For the first time, surrounded by water, laying in the endless blue of saltwater

freedom, the shackles of sand and gravity mean nothing. My blood surges like the

raging wave and I know this is all I could ever want with my one life: the freedom to

move forth, untamed as the ocean, strong as a tidal wave.