Spring Clouds – Part 1

“The darkness presses against me like knives piercing flesh. My lungs are leaden, burning, and I squirm and weave in a state of perpetual blindness. The water surges through my fingers and the core of the earth calls to me. My body wants to be there, among the centuries old sand and bleached bones of sleeping fish. My struggle for breath wrings at me, and I inhale water and salt. It slides down my throat like tar, and I writhe and feel every need to scream. There is no air.

 Needles prick at my insides. The fire is calmer now, and so far away. Spots decorate my vision, but I couldn’t blink them away. My mouth hangs heavy and open. My spine is iron. My mind is breaking, since I could no longer discern the boundaries of reality, of what is up and what is down. Lightning tears at the darkness, a white snake slithering with no rhythm. Thin white streams waver like the aurora borealis over the stone-like nature of my skin.

 The dream snaps. I’m everywhere at once. I hear the cracking of waves and the moan of the abyss. Lava flows through me and I’m stronger than the roots of redwood trees. Pressure, I’m becoming a diamond. The transformation is blinding me with white and blue. The lava is rising in me, churning and constricting my throat, ready to erupt. There! I spew fire and rock, and I breathe in nothing.

 Gasping, I see rocky cliffs and forgotten storms in the eyes of my savoir.”

Jomarie Acosta 2015 © http://jomarieacosta.wordpress.com

DSCF1612fx3wtrJPG DSCF1611fx2wtr DSCF1595wtr 542fxwtr 596fx1wtrWhen I saw these cloud formations I remembered reading Jomarie Acosta’s piece called Breath Again. They reminded me of the eruption from a dormant volcano and somehow seemed fitting to her words.