It has a sound all its own. I have never heard anything like it anywhere else. It is underlined by a hum that seems organic in nature, barely perceptible, but endlessly comfortable. The tiled walls throw echoes about, magnifying every sound generated in the room.
I hear my breath not only through the natural conduction of my body, but in the echoes. I am magnified as I am surrounded by the audibility of my very life.
While getting ready for immersion, the sound stays just shy of overwhelming. Fastidious in my preparations, I feel myself subconsciously set the nail cleaning, hair combing, and tooth brushing to its rhythm. It is the rhythm of my life being reflected off the cool, tiled walls. Just as I feel as if the reverberation of existence may envelop me, I realize I am finished.
I am preoccupied as she checks the bottoms of my feet. Did I forget anything? I run through my checklist in my mind. My easy rhythm has turned to a momentary drumbeat of urgency. I check my nails once again to reassure myself. They, like the rest of me are pristinely unsoiled.
The drumbeat calms to the low roar of a cadence. I descend the steps and with a deep intake of breath, submerge. My symphony of being comes to a perfect, silent climax.
When I resurface, after, really, only a second or two, the denouement is quick. There is a sound almost like a shattering, as drops of water scatter back into the pool. The wake of my emergence immediately follows, lapping against the tiled sides. The water plays against itself, sending tinkling sounds off the dimly lit walls.
I open my eyes and I am utterly at peace, surrounded by tranquil beauty of the Mikvah, ready for this months honeymoon.