The Woman and the Sea
There was once a woman who fell in love with the sea, for he was fair, wild, and unpredictable as an ocean storm. Some days he raged and stormed, others he was calm and gentle. The sea had had affairs with goddesses and amused himself by wrecking ships. He was cursed by every weathered sailor and fisherman.
The young woman was caught in a tempest as result of one of his violent moods. The sea had ruthlessly claimed human lives before her but this woman seemed unafraid of the sea. Even as she drowned, she was humming a beautiful song. . . The sea was captivated, and gently bore her to shore, where she wept to leave him. Seeing this, he bore her away where they could live together, deep in the ocean's heart.
But the gods and goddesses were jealous of the sea's mighty influence, and so locked him beneath the earth where he could only influence the vast oceans with his constant toil beneath. The great waters were no longer part of him, and he was torn away from his lover.
Only rarely do they allow him to visit his lady love, who they granted immortality. When a rainstorm has just ended and the moon is bright enough, a glowing moon rainbow cuts a swath through heaven and earth. The shackles are loosed and the sea freed from his prison, whereupon he rushes to the tide to see his lover.
They may have a night, or only a moment, depending on whether the gods want a calm sea or a furious, tempestuous sea. When their time is done, his shackles bind him again until many years later he may return again. The woman in love with the sea remains on the shoreline, always waiting, never knowing when she may see her beloved sea again. She pays little attention to life, merely clinging to her memories of him, ever and always waiting.
Her shawl and dress snap in the wind, like dancing snakes that sway to music. Her hair is soaked, droplets soak her skin, but a radiant smile lights her face. A shiver of anticipation, not cold, racks her shoulders.
A storm flurries about her, dark and wicked, but nothing could damp her spirits now. For soon, her wait will end.
The storm rages on but the sea is silent, still. The wind snatches the shawl from her shoulders, and sends it twisting away on the air as if it is slithering away. Soon.
A mighty swell rises from beneath the surface, bubbling and frothing. A solid figure, bound by strong watery bonds, emerges in a great fountain of white foamy seawater. His body is golden, glistening with the dirt and sweat that inevitably accompanies his never-ending toil 'neath the earth. His mane is wild, flowing like the oceans he oversees, and sparkling with darting, glimmering fish, bits of shipwrecks long past, and living strands of seaweed. His eyes are deep and fathomless, dark and forbidding as the bottommost floor of the ocean. The water bonds melt from his wrists and he strides to shore, where the tide has become still without his ceaseless work. As soon as his feet touch the wet sandy shore, he becomes mortal.
They rush together, desperate to touch and remember for as long as allowed. The lovers lock into an embrace, wishing to never part again, remembering again their arms around each other. Their two figures are framed by a widely arcing, glowing beam. A moon rainbow, the signal of his freedom and their happiness.
Her wet shawl whips back around her shoulders, entangling him. This single moment is what they have waited for, through years of excruciating separation.
The glowing arc begins to fade, and he backs into the tide unwilling and resisting, still clutching her to him until the water goes too deep for her. Chains of unbreakable water shoot from the sea like hungry, grasping arms, encircling his wrists and ankles, dragging him by his middle. Immortality consumes him once more, and he is forced down into the unfeeling sea which is part of him no more. Her salty tears join the salt of the sea. The tide begins again and sweeps over her knees where she has fallen. It retreats and rolls forth, momentarily obscuring her. She rocks back and forth in agony, humming her melody deep and low where it will reach the ends of the earth.
And so, her wait begins again. She resides in a damp shack just off the beach. Every morning and every evening, she sits in the surf, feeling the cold water envelop her and wishing it were her beloved sea.
For years upon years she spends her time longing with a cold hopeless certainty that it will be an eternity before her shackled lover will gain his momentary freedom once again.
The sea labors down deep in the heart of the earth. Fury and frustration once relieved in the crashing of the waves and the shipwrecks of mighty galleons is turned to the magnificent effort required to shake the earth, to create the tides. The sea would have burned out long ago like a tired star, but his love awaits him. A burning, fiery desire to see her keeps him angry and strong, enough to continue the backbreaking labor for years and years on end unceasing. And so they shall, forever and ever to come.
