Under the water
below the sea
the whales are calling
They're calling to me
Divers discover the waters
the fish are swimming for all to see
The sea holds tresures and souls
Secrets are waiting
in the under sea holes
What's waiting for me
in the depths of the sea
Is the answer I'm longing
It's the key to the sea.
deeper and slower
and turquoise so dark
it's almost black
the water claiming me
finally, as it should
pressuring my lungs to collapse
under the lightest weight
engulfed in deep blue
I let go and fall, fall, fall — ever so deep —
Into the cracks between your pieces
They’re the only way to your heart.
Let me swim through the crevices
Like a diver in the mines.
Ive struck gold.
love is an ocean
and standing on a cliff
the wind begins to blow
before it has the chance
to push me into a fall
above my head
they direct me
i am tight
my descent never pausing
never pining for the safety of the cliff
never looking back up
if the tide
Writing is like jumping into a deep mountain lake
to find some tiny piece of my soul
submerged and floating there
an immersive brooding wistful prayer
or a flight into the blue thin air.
It is a cinematic journey
recording the fruits of noticing
what is right in front of the eyes
and finding what is deeper
Writing is looking into an old man’s eyes
and discovering the person there
just as much a spiritual venture
digging toward his center
as a physical sensation.
It is a magical mystery tour
taking the visible threads
in hand and feeling my way
to the roots
or pausing and squeezing the fruit
for its juice.
It is fun
it is a morning run
or an evening rest
pain, joy, and dreams expressed.
Writing is moving, grooving, including
taking a moment in time
exploding it in rhythm and rhyme
finding in the ordinary the sublime.
This pool is bottomless; stunningly blue,
I find that I’m tumbling towards it with you.
We’ve fallen, and now that the surface is breaking,
our dive, beyond words, will leave us both shaking.
I see now, a lifetime of love in the making.