As we arrived and an agreement was made, the creature asked me to swim.

I agreed with apprehension and invited my loved ones.

They sat close, watched me jump.

As I came up for air, there it was.

Perched on the coping stone, one foot in the lion’s mouth.

Jumping.

Pushing off.

I ran and was compelled to jump.

Again.

Each time I was greeted with an uneasy fear when I decided to breathe.

Always there to keep.

To trap.

Every time more difficult to get out.

Finally, I sat.

Could they see what I saw?

Did they hear the music climaxing?

Did they feel the pressure?

The creature was moving all around.

Closing gates with one last call to swim.

With it’s burning red face, it’s sickening stench, the creature asked, “Will you judge my true nature?”.

The walls behind it laughing. Taunting.

With the uncomfortable atmosphere becoming more threatening, we said, “No, it is not our duty”.

I then noticed us.

War paint and scars of a multitude.

Wounds that would not heal.

Blood that would only bleed.

We had been to battle.

We had seen death.

With a flash the scene changed and there was only peace.

The creature stared at me and without hesitation said, fearfully, “He is coming”.

I paused.

Thinking.

Wondering.

Then, as if daydreaming, the scene changed back. The creature would not look at me. 


Swim

24" x 36" Acrylic on Canvas

2010 by Mancel Lindsey