Found

 Found

I stand on a beach
in the wildness of the wind.
Whitecaps crash on the breakwater,
sand and small stones stir at my feet.
Something stirs in me, too.
It doesn’t feel good or bad.
I’m just aware.
I head into the lake,
swim straight into the wind,
honor the effort it takes
to keep my head above water.
I scan the surface as I swim,
break through the larger waves
with my hands,
let those less intense lift me
and let me back down.
I smile with a sense that I’m likely
the only human in or on the lake,
feel inherent vigor,
settle into a cadence that takes me far.
I rest on a familiar rock
where dragonflies often visit.
But, today even they
must be wary of the wind.
As I head back to the beach
the waves become propulsion,
a welcome shift in perspective.

A few days later,
that which had stirred
 is unloosened.
A depth of loneliness is back
and I feel sort of lost
in swells of eclectic emotions.
And then I remember the waves,
both lake and ocean,
how when their rhythm is joined,
one is not lost,
but found.

Sarah Carlson
July 11, 2022