Last night, I had a nice dream -I dreamed about the sea. When I woke up this morning, I could still see myself sitting on the shore gazing at the line that separates it from the sky, that perfect limit drawn between blue tones.
The sea, poetry in continuos movement full of verses of war and peace; with fantastic beings -rare habitants in the depth- and beautiful marine fauna; plenty of loves dreamed or experienced, of stories of survival or death, risks achieved, an intense energy.
So many stories dwelling at the bottom of the sea and therefore, silenced.
I was lucky enough to meet you when I was a child, becoming aware of your essence when I was able to start walking on my own two feet. I would mark the sand with my fingerprints, which you would erase when you came to greet me, doing magic.
I am sure that to me, you would be like a huge bathtub with plenty of salty blue water, until the perspective of my retina became higher and more profound, discovering that perfect line.
From that moment, the possibility of approaching it someday became a silent seduction for me.
Every year, during the summer, I went to visit you and I always enjoyed thinking about your horizon. My visual perception insisted on setting a real limit -despite the knowledge I already had about your reality- behind which would be the emptiness of infinity.
But, finally the day arrived when I could sail your waters on a beautiful sailboat, knowing that this limit was as immeasurable as you were deep, and perhaps for this reason, you wanted to flood all my laughter with the iodine of a tremendous swell with which you received the wind that came to provoke you, even to beg you for some warmth.
I felt very small but, at the same time, I could feel free, strong and wild as I’d never felt before, so if I’d wanted you since I was a child, from this moment I started to love you.
Next summer, when I see you again from an unknown shore, perhaps I will want to write my destiny on this line that made me draw you in the first place…on your blue horizon.