i'm hopeful,
i'm hopeful that this will all come together soon.

the answers will appear to all of these swirling questions,
overwhelming, drowning underneath, we all seem to be,
and as we keep swimming, the tide gets stronger,
as if there is no calm water ahead.
what will we make of this journey,
which path will we take? does it even matter?
my shipmates, we were tossed overboard,
one by one,
by choice or by force,
and as we reach out for buoys,
gasping for breath,
for a semblance of sanity,
we recall our problems being simpler,
a blazing sun,
her lips, my tongue,
a roadway for one,
the way i would run,
the way i could run.

tell me now, as oxygen is replaced,
with cool bursts of reality,
when will this be over?
the mirage of a shore, seems closer
than ever, and i'm sure
that it will all be explained with clarity
once i'm there, the meaning of this all,
we'll laugh about the urgency
with which we swam.

as we set off, water as smooth as a warm caress,
fully operational, easy as pie,
elaborate questions were simple, as our minds were,
what's next? where are we going?
who's staying for the long haul?

and when the initial wave of panic subsided,
as we soon realized the fate of our ship,
foreboding as the water seemed,
the blue reminded us of sky.

it didn't feel too cold,
a gentle winter gust,
we could practically touch,
the warm sand ahead.

but then the winds changed,
i guess our minds changed,
i lost sight of the eyes that were locked,
with mine while we sank,
and as i scrambled to find them,
i realized that this, was not a drill,
and there really was, no turning back,
sitting on the deck, playing board games,
forgetting my name, leaning on canes,
forever the past.

and i thought i'd be the best swimmer,
underestimated the strength of waves,
i see the splashes, of churning feet, far ahead,
others, drying off, laughing on land,
we were the same not long ago.

i swim with purpose,
the method has changed,
the destination, the same,
but just as i see those who've reached the end,
i see those who've chosen to wait,
rescue choppers, coast guards,
a lifeline, perhaps.
others, piecing together the ship,
hoping to see it once again, set sail,
and if i could shake my head,
without compromising my front crawl,
i guess i would.

because there's a point to this struggle,
that's what we've been told,
there'll be answers on that beach,
along with joyous recollection,
there'll be you and me, and everyone else,
and the water that we drink,
will taste so much better than
the bitter dreck through which we swim.

back on that ship, i recall,
a wise philosopher once saying,
"just keep swimming".
that blind optimism,
a pixar mindset,
said nothing of direction,
or inevitable casualties.