I hear it echo
deep beneath
like water that drips
one drop at a time
into a quiet cavern.

Echoes turn to rhythm
and I am filled
with a familiar melody
as I blink, walk, and breathe to the beat.
Sung from underwater,
it can exhilarate me
conjure up feelings of
dance and storm;

but mostly it exhausts me
dehydrates me,
and I am pulled under.
What used to seem like momentum
I hear like dragging feet
and the drips do less to complement
than to contrast
the storm I once could taste.

I know that I am the ocean
but with waves that tire
the current can be lost.

Sometimes I feel like the drop
dripping over and over again
and I am futile, worthless.
Sometimes I feel like the cavern
empty and waiting,
absorbing more than I contribute
and wasting time.

But I have learned
by sinking and racing
(and failing at both)
that often the best thing to do
is just to float,
and listen.