I am standing just inside the opening, but after the first few steps there's a jog to the right. No light filters around this corner to where I am standing. I am barefoot and the cool, thick mud is pushing up between my toes. It feels good - therapeutic, even, to be standing here in the darkness with this rich, dark, organic earth surrounding my toes, wrapping them each individually.
Somehow I find myself coming upon a place of light. A room, circular and lit from above. A small clear pool of water sits in the center. The walls slope up and around to form a dome-like ceiling and lush green fern fronds dot the rocks, curling over protectively. I step barefoot through the warm golden sand, giving the pond a wide berth and staying close to the rock walls. My fingertips reach up to brush a dewdrop that hangs from the tip of a fern and brush the black-pepper-like seeds lined up along the underside of the leaves.
At one point I realize my feet have been breaded. The mud caked on them has become coated with the fine sand and I suddenly feel the need to cleanse them. My eyes dart to the pristine circle of water and just as quickly look away. I can't put my filthy feet into that gorgeous, undisturbed pool for such a silly notion.
In the next instant I am shoulder deep in the golden water. I haven't soiled it at all. It is so much deeper than I imagined. I am naked, clean, floating. No, not floating. Held. All at once I realize how good this feels. How safe I am. I am held in love.
I am held in love.