It's scary isn't it. When you where never taught to swim. Never taught how to tread water. The storms have been relentless. Your body aches. Your tired. Your treading and the sky is dark. But you are treading. Each wave brings a new challenge. The waves hit so hard. Your chest is heavy. Breathing is a chore. You wish to see a horizon. But still you are treading. It's been so long since you saw land. You are cold and tired. You were never taught how to swim. It's scary isn't it. No shore in sight. Still no light. But you are treading. Your mind is weary. Your body aches. Each breath is heavy. A new wave approaches. You breath deep to survive. Still you are treading. This wave brought something new. Drift wood just like you. The wood cold under your hand. Take a minute. This is your land. It's small and cold. Minor to most. And still you are treading. You're head resting weary. You need to breath. So you float and think. It's scary isn't it. This endless tread. You made it so far. You think when will it end. Alone, cold and tired. Another wave crashes. You want to give up. But still you are treading. More drift wood floats by. Not worth the interest. But your are wrong. The drift wood seems minor. A little pause in the storm. Still no sign of shore. But you are still treading. It becomes natural. Unaware of the action. Staring out into the distance. Dark skies and cold water. Nothing had changed. A wave comes crashing. Bigger than before. You want to give up. The wood is not shore. The waves send you under. You want to give in. Let the cold water take you. Let the water seep in. But still you are treading. Then under foot. Something familiar. Is it sand or soot. The waves peels back. Finally you see. The storm got you back. Right where you should be. The shore you lay on. Wet ,cold and alone. Is not the shore you came from. It is not your home. But when you stand and try to see. You start treading, away and free. Your legs stronger than ever. They carry you away. Find you a place. A place of safety and warmth. A distance far greater. Greater than any had been. For your treading made you strong. You don't realise the height. The place you made home. Then you turn and see the water. Where you were cold and alone. You are warm and safe. Finally at peace. A storm rolls off in the distance. Your pain a memory. You still feel the pain. The fatigue and cold. But you made it. All on your own. Minor drift wood. So basic and small. A small rest bite in the storm. But you kept treading. You made it through. The water won't last forever. There is always a shore. A shore just for you. You just have to keep treading. Build your strength. Your struggle can get you further. Further than you ever dreamt.

1 year ago

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