I lay naked in the night, body half out of the pool. I peer at a small brown and green toad amongst flora Blanca flowers. Watching his eyes open and close, his throat bubble and close. Oxygen move in and out of his body with grace. My eyes are swollen from crying and my heart feels exposed and vulnerable.
I remember that this is one of your totems, that when they found your body, there was a frog in the water beside you — like your guardian in your passing through the worlds. Eagles and frogs. They told the story at your funeral. Frog medicine. Daniel.
I spoke about you today, over green bintang beers in a shitty tourist bar on the beach at 3 PM.
Did you hear me?
I wonder if it is you, and if it is, if you are here to remind me again, as my teacher likely for this lifetime and many more of the unconditional love I deserve. The love that I am, that I denied myself for years and years and years. The love you effortlessly saw. “I love you. I don’t know why or how but I just love you. I’m meant to love you in this life.”
Or maybe, I’m just sitting vulnerable and naked, looking for meaning in this visitor in the night — but I like to believe in magic. And I believe that toad is you, to guide me and see me and hear my heart tonight.
To look at me gently and calmly and confidently, and remind me to stay open.