A Cancers Strife

Have you ever imagined being a grain of sand? So small and unique, but so the same as the trillion other grains of sand surrounding you.

I imagine what it would feel like, baking in the hot sun, my round little body pulsing with heat; and then whoosh, the fast and heavy wave coming on me, cooling me with its blue salty water. Then it's gone again, nothing but the sound of the sun warming me for soft feet to come along, sink its wiggly toes into me and my friends. Then whoosh, another sweet cold wash; sometimes pulling me further into the deep, undulating water where I can watch strange creatures swim around me, sometimes picking me up in their mouths just to drop me off a few feet away. Or the wave pushes me further up shore, towards the strange twisted and mangled branches of salt bleached drift wood. I think I'd like to live in the shade of these gigantic, dead trees, and listen to the ocean wreak havoc on my friends, pulling them deeper and deeper into its endless abyss. I think I'd like that.

I'm a Cancer, always pulled West to sunny land where the sun beats down on the white beaches, the blue ocean flowing in a soft line down the shore. Or to the East and the cold water of the Atlantic ocean, where the rain pelts down in freezing, refreshing droplets. Because of this strange pull, I spend a mass amount of my time in the bathtub and endlessly wishing for rain; like a mermaid pulled from the mysterious fathoms below and placed in the middle of a desert surrounded by rocky, sky-high mountains where no sign of my home exists.

So when the clouds mass together in the dark, foreboding purple and black, my heart thumps hard in my chest and my body pulls harder with excitement. I'm surrounded in a sweet, wet world wherever I go on these days…

This is a Cancers strife, ruled by the waves.

Oh when is it going to rain again?