Ocean sprays by the great Pacific
walks and runs and hikes and swims
...
but none of it compares to having peace that's within

heroic efforts and abundant attempts
toward good deeds and faithful opportunity
...
but why won't it alter the man that I am?
~
like I'm floating on my back within this body of mine
just a shell representing the person who bears my name

Dare I have the courage to step off of this edge,
And become traitorous to the identity that they claim?

"How dare I step off of this edge
and become traitorous to my own identity"

I've been under this water for quite some time
and I need to breathe.

Folded arms
refuse mother's milk
a hot pursuit
to wither
and decay

Both hands full
grasp in desperation
a station to rest
in anxiety
and strain

A handful
it labors in quiet
steadily travels
in peace
and love

When I write
it's just a poem
but what I feel it is in my spirit
words are a tool
to poke and ****
feel our way around like wanderers in the dark
most wander by
sometimes all do
but sometimes we find each other
then what I wrote
is not just a poem
but the vehicle of connection between you and I