Pushing Back The Sea

In between bursts of song, from some unseen source down the block, the night is blissfully silent.  Traffic sounds, of course, with the occasional airplane.  None of them especially bothersome, and all a quiet carnival for the ear.  Earlier the night was torn by the melancholic sounds of a lovers' quarrel drifting through open windows.  Curses and tears, a chanson of blue notes wafting on the late evening air, leaving pity in their wake.

Cool caresses of indigo silk, zephyrs curl through the windows as balm for the weary body.  These tiny currents possessed of Herculean strength that transform the bones and skin into a kite.  Floating off the couch, diffused through the window screen into human mist feathering off into the sky...

Soaring, gliding, escaping the "surly bonds of earth" in this fleshly wing, seeking relief and knowing this path, this rarefied road through the forest will carry one to the dim shore of an invisible life.  It is there the animate simulacrum called Yourself will dance naked on the sand, spinning tales in glee, to push back the Sea.