Words due to their limited range of expression often create large colourful swirls in a steady sea, that when seen from high above look enticing and beautiful, but detract from the calmness, and the depth of the waters they swim within. The secret of the sea hidden in plain sight, its nature obscured and mistakenly altered by the pretty refractions of light that dance across its surface and that create an illusion of solidity, of stability, where none exists, where none is required.
With the flow of the water comes a change in moods that undulate and swell and that reveal the sea’s true range of expression, its richness, its tenor. Its myriad voices unheard by those up high, its frequencies too low for the tuneless, epicurean eyes that circle above. Its colours unseen because they do not depend on light to be visible. Its complexities unspoken because they do not depend on words to define them. Its constant, rhythmic pulse not felt by the clatter of syllables, and sentence structures that constrict and confine, that prickle and itch, and leave scratches and scars across its dependable mirrored surface; a mask that can only be described from above, by the heady search-light of an articulated tongue emitting a singular and tightly focussed beam.
As the words dissolve in the dwindling light the sea remains constant, fluid but steady; ever present, and accepting of its nature. No questions to hinder its flow. No lengthy diatribes to define its purpose, or to delineate its qualities into bite-size morsels, to be swallowed whole by hungry suns. To be marginalised, or trivialised, individualised, or idolised. That which cannot be measured cannot be described. No rule long enough, nor so replete with linguistic longitude could give latitude to the steady sea’s unfathomable intent. Nor could it be contained in a singular theoretical string intent on binding its toes so as to render it unsteady on a paper-thin ledge built for ants alone. Ants whose inky prints would encode their furtive march in sinuous lines along this most tenuous of spines, intent on flexing as the wind dictates.
The steady sea misunderstood yet immune from judgement, as with its invisible mass it keeps the light afloat upon its hallowed mirror, as awareness gives voice to words. Yet when pressed close our ear to the voice’s resonant shell we hear the whisper of the sea within, and feel it’s waves lapping our perceptive shores with gentle serenades.