Drown Me

The desert no longer in sight--only in her memories--only in the faces she thought once dear. She swims, downs, is enveloped by the beautiful, clear blue. The drowning is even peaceful here. She does not know towards what she is swimming, perhaps something greater-not the desert-so she continues to fight on. She heard the voice in the desert, calling her on-the water has no voice, but she knows its where the voice has led her. The water rushes away her thoughts, her priorities, her self. The water is taking away from her the dross of her former life. Her lack of strength is the strongest power she has known. She continues to swim, becoming anew with each stroke, each wave. This water is her salvation of desperation.

Writing by me, based on "January Hour-Epiphany" by Makoto Fujimura (above)
and John 1:23, 26-27