Mermaid Thoughts

If I were a mermaid I would travel from sea to sea, stopping in each continent, exploring it like I would explore another world. In the Mediterranean I would enjoy the sun, the smell of exotic fruits and spices. In Australia I would glide over the reef, surprising small colourful fish. I would spend hours underwater enjoying the colours, the pearly iridescent whites, the swirling greens, the soft pink of a seashell and the countless shades of blue as pale or deep as the sky. I would rise out of the water, among the waves that crash like galloping white horses. I would lie still in slow currents, drifting, dragging my fingers in the sand, the currents sliding over my skin like ribbons. I would find a place among the sea turtles and rest on their broad warm shells. I would play with the dolphins, laughing and expelling bubbles from my mouth. I would reach the depths of the ocean and explore the vast grand kingdom of Atlantis, the ruins of majestic spires and towers and overgrown gardens of sea lavender. I would swim to the arctic oceans, circling the icebergs, watching the sun glint off the ice and pass through in hazy canyons that pierce the frozen water. I would turn and find myself face to face with the ice bears, their massive claws and big black eyes. I would climb the underwater volcanoes, run my hands on the dark rock, feeling the red heat flowing and rushing within it. I wonder if, being underwater so long, I would admire the sun? Would I be fascinated by the colours of a fire, watching the flames and sparks that light up dark nights, from afar? Would I begin to become captivated by embers and coals, the smoky ruby prisms? What of the moon, would the silver patterns of light on the water’s surface entrance me? The green grey tint on night clouds and white orb keeping me above the waves long after I’ve gotten tired. If I lived in a world of blue and green and wet, would I want the feel of warm dry sand, trees that grow on mountainsides instead of mangroves? Like a princess who gazes out the window of her tower, daydreaming of running away and tasting new things. Would I close my eyes and imagine the smell of ripe apples by a hot meadow, the blinding pink light of cherry blossoms dappled with sunshine, the nectar yellow of leaves falling as trees bend in an autumn wind? If not, if I did not yearn for a world I was a part of, what would I fill my days with? I could sing tragic, mournful, beautiful songs and lead sailors to their death. I could pick my way through riches and treasure in sunken ships, amid watery graves, skeletons sleeping in caverns too deep for their bones to be bleached by the sun. I could have a sweet face, masking fatal intentions that are the ending of so many. Perhaps I would desire to lure someone or something, without bringing them harm, without being the cause of pain. I would want something else, something different. As everyone does. 

Art by Adams Doyle

Text by Lucie MacAulay