An arts magazine at the University of Pennsylvania
every summer, the ocean calls
Art by Yoni Perla
Writing by Mia Yang
you are water-born, we all are
our fate was never to be chained
rather to float, adrift
yet (inevitably) your two legs grow and you totter around on land until you hear nothing but your own
blood rushing when you lift a conch shell to your ear
not the gentle waves crashing
nor the mournful siren calling you home
in the summer, pool season
chlorine dulls the senses yet tugs at you with unfettered joy
when you swim, you feel (are) unstoppable
but: diving off the springboard and sputtering as water fills your nose, your mouth,
you’re laughing, you’re crying
–is still a poor substitute while you belong to solid ground, are held captive to it
a blink, though, and you can be unmoored (again)
not fighting against the tide, simply swimming with it
you are not powerful, nor powerless
waves crashing over you, around you,
taking a piece of you to spread far and wide and away
but never dragging you under
or, standing ashore, feet disappearing into sand
that piece of you, missing for so long, reappeared
only a fleeting feeling
like the sea breeze filling your lungs with salt and still so freeing
we are all born from the water
and she smiles and weeps and rages while you cannot see her
but she is always there, tempest and calm
waiting and flowing and returning to shore
home is always there – to be found, lost, and found again