She is soft, the unfurling petals of an ancient mystery,
The pearl at the center of it all.
She is a dreamer, but who hardly skates the surface of her sonorous, resounding depths
Because really—she is the dream.
Don’t underestimate that.
She is the place where limitations are not, and imagination expands enthusiastically, and thoughts alchemize into new ways of being that are felt—but not readily seen.
She weaves the dream with expert hands,
Her fingertips covered in the silver linings of tears, heart submerged in the passion that bubbles up and tells her to make something—
Something better, something sweeter, something more healing.
And yes, she sometimes is more comfortable in silken reveries of ecstasy than the harsh gusts of reality that feel like tacks digging into porcelain;
Don’t underestimate that.
To her—the ethereal is real.
The dreams. The visions. The intuitions and whispered knowings. The words that pour through her, seemingly from nowhere. The sensations she feels swimming up and down her legs, like liquid electricity.
It has texture, taste—
She can reach out and touch it,
Waters drip and she swims
Deep,
Deep,
Deep,
A mermaid.
She dives down and sparkles
Merging with the ocean itself,
Her heart is the Mediterranean sea—
Vast, undying, and absurdly, beautifully blue
She is water;
Healing waters, gentle waters, soothing and mystical waters.
She is the thin, gossamer line between fantasy and reality.
Life and loss; hope and death; forgiveness and anger; faith and pain.
Her love is gigantic, lest she give it to you.
It runs for miles, rushing into hidden cracks and valleys, it plunges to the molten center of the earth and crystallizes at the place where all waters meet.
Her tears fall with lush regularity.
Don’t underestimate that.
For they water her dreams to rise like phoenixes, birthed from the pain of what once plagued her
Tears fall, and they take her.
She is taken.
But she does not drown. She is made for these depths.
Tears fall, for no reason, other than she feels so much and cares so deeply.
And the remembrance that this
Is
Powerful.
This softness
Is what stirs her to life
From the shadows
To be seen
To remember that she matters.
She feels. She feels. She feels.
The veil is thinner when she is near
Perhaps it does not exist at all—
Ether into water,
Thought into turquoise tidal pools,
Hope pressed into reality.
Everything merges, time goes away, and fervent magic is revealed.
She will love the forgotten, the wretched, the abused, the cursed.
And in an act of intimate bravery, she will love those tender parts of herself, too.
Love is her superpower.
Empathy is her strong suit.
Vulnerability is the ripe nakedness that is sewn into the song of her soul.
Don’t underestimate that.
It’s not precious—it’s gigantic. It’s fierce, unrelenting, transformative, and it can puncture the stars and shake the world.
And,
Yes…
She may give away too much, or give too sweetly to the wrong ones—
But through pain and fire, she will learn to proudly protect the power of the water
She
Is.
She feels. She feels. She feels.
She dives deep
And feels.
Feeling is a portal,
Feeling is not to be cast out or escaped, but adored, and explored viscerally.
Feeling is a way to exalt and kiss the sapphire lips of the Divine
And
Yes,
She is a gentle creature, but do not misunderstand her—
For water can gush and roar.
It can storm and seethe.
It can find a way through anything.
For she is the mistress of deeply feminine ways
She ushers in the truths of the ancient ones
So listen to her
When she whispers and just knows.
Honor her through tears, through trembling, through tenderness, through finally admitting how much you care.
Know her through poetry, through dreams, through the fragile strums of heartbreak
Meet her silken, otherworldly gaze and feel it drip into your core, like a fresh spring rain
Because she lays flowers at the fractured feet of what was once abandoned or rejected and loves it again.
This is how she brings the world back to life around her.
Because she is
Water
And water
Can find a way through anything.
Water gives life.
Water births the luscious buds of new realities.
Water breathes peaceful receptivity.
She is how to change the world.
Boldly, but quietly,
In the soft palms of a soulful reverence—
By remembering how much we care
By
Feeling
It
All.
Because
There is no such thing
As feeling too much
Or caring too deeply.
Author: Sarah Harvey
Image:Wikimedia Commons
Editor: Lieselle Davidson
Copy Editor: Catherine Monkman
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