Tuesday, April 18, 2006

the depths of surrender

This is an old poem that was published in Dream International Quarterly once upon a time. I'm posting it here mostly to test out this new blogging interface that promises to allow me to indent text without the tedious space by space html edit required in Blogger. We'll see.

the depths of surrender

Almost of my own volition, I slip
     into rough waves,
watch the small sailboat drift away
     into the salty distance,
and I tread water in the midst
     of this liquid desert,
not afraid, but aware that I will soon
     drown, or at least

die of dehydration if my strength
     does not give out first.
I orient myself to the moon, swim
     toward what I believe
is the direction of land, my clothes
     heavy and slowing me,
so I shed them, then naked in a vast
     expanse of ocean,

a kind of enlightenment. Waves
     wash over me and I
swallow water, feel the burn in my lungs,
     the weight in my belly,
the dark night becoming darker as I lose
     oxygen in my effort,
depths of being opening before me, a poem
     of my life read in slow lines

as the exhaustion pulls me under
     surface, without struggle,
and I fall quietly, calmly, into a strange
     form of sleep,
a dream so vivid death ceases
     to exist, where breath
is easy, more than natural, and I am,
     finally, fully awake.
Post a Comment