A Mermaid's Tone

     Muscle tone.  Not of a body builder.  Muscle tone.  A Mermaid's Tone.
     I hope for it.  I will it to be.  I pray with fervor that it be--all mine.  Yet, hope, will, and prayer are not God's promise to me.  Yet, I must hope.  I must will it.  I must pray.
     Arms arise skyward.  Into the pool's water they plunge.  Alternating.  One, then the other, as oars in a river's current.  From my shoulders, this mermaid's oars are anchored.
     Arms outstretched.  Wrists pulled together.  With the force of a magnet, their cymbals clash.  With a strong will, her wrists resist the temptation of a lifelong embrace.  The force of her forearms cry out.
     "Strengthen me.  Use me.  Believe in me.  Do not waste my muscles.  Use me.  Do not will my muscles to be withering, dying willows.  Use me.  Teach me to reach outward--to branch out-- to blossom  in full glory."  
     The Mermaid's biceps believe.  Though not her eyes, the Mermaid's biceps believe in the vision--A Muscle's Tone.  With their tissues, the biceps connect the oars to the force of the forearms.
     The Mermaid's calves circle on the water's unicycle.  On her back, she floats.  The Mermaid's ankles pedal.  Her feet flutter.  The Mermaid's thighs push toward a toned spirit.  Not atrophy.  The Mermaid paddles toward a Muscle's Tone.
     I seek not the strength of the Bodybuilder.  I am the Mermaid.  I seek the strength of a Muscle's Tone.  No boorish bravado do I seek.  I seek a softer strength.  Not submissive.  Not boastful.
     I am a Mermaid.  I seek a Mermaid's Tone.