Standing on the brink. The athlete pauses.
The moment for action has arrived.
The leap from safety takes an age,
Yet in truth is only a fraction of a second.
All the time that is needed.
The ground rushes forward, meeting the diver.
In that split moment, adrenaline starts coursing,
Activating all senses, a million pieces of information,
Details from every corner converge,
Deranging the preconceived.
The ground yields to the weight.
The lungs, struggle for air, limbs flay against the earth,
Till they can move the body from the point of impact.
The force of which has shattered
An illusion of the earth, a mirror broken,
But not the threat of seven years ill omen.
Slowly the subconscious remembers,
Repetition of movements,
Often practised. Again and again the same.
Breathe, kick, pull, breathe, kick.
The lungs searching for air, arms arching,
And legs kicking, strong.
We are above the earth, above the black lines,
The early morning sun plays down,
Creating a mosaic of light beneath our eyes
We are of earth, of fire, of air and of water.
Water, the lifeblood that fills our veins,
The same liquid fills this concrete swimming hole.
The wall draws near, there for an instant
Rolling images. Silver bubbles. A strong legged push,
Then arcing in the reflected direction
Once more the body pistons itself splitting
The water, muscles, stretching and pulling,
Rhythm re-established, machinery well oiled moves.
As the athlete moves with a grace,
Not normally seen. An echo is heard,
Can this be the age of dolphins or of man?
Yet, who of the two the wiser attitude to life?
Man in spending all his time,
Trying to control all around him.
Wasting time,
Buildings monuments to his frailty.
Killing his own kind, and the squabbles within himself.
Working and scrounging,
Only to find that in the end, it is of little use.
Through all of this the dolphins play,
In the seas, free.
The athlete continues to swim,
The sun is clear, out of a clear sky,
Its early morning warmth is soft.
Caressing the skin.
Stroking softly the back, with each
Rise out of the water, the arch of the spine.
The flowing rush of the water, silently
Still the ears are full.
Aware of the flow and ebb.
Swimming, glistening in the golden glow.
Water is the great leveller.
Subtle, soft scythe, Cuts to the soul.
Here in the gentle light,
There are few worries, play is absolute.
Here thoughts are free to roam,
The full range of the mind.
Here is the peace,
From the turmoil.
Problems all with the bubbles rising
All is let loose, the world of problems become,
Just glistening bubbles that roll off a shining skin.
Bubbles that race and fall, amongst themselves,
Bursting with little heed.

Life has passed these same paths.
Many times before,
It is all but nothing, only reflections in the light.