sea-swallowed

i dream of drowning.

the water is endless. it swallows. it invades.

there is taking & taking & taking but never giving;

                                                        i’m all out of air but my lungs don’t know that yet.

sea-foam veins ache beneath my skin.

there is something ancient that lives within me,

longing to return to the unforgiving depths of the ocean.

i am storm-tossed and sodden.

            salt-stung eyes can not find the north star.

                                                                                            i am alone.

i wake on dry land, miles from the shore.

the chill of sea-soaked clothes follows me out of my dreams.

i fear there will always be a part of me submerged;

                            the world is muffled, drowned, blurry around the edge

                            and it hurts to breathe.

what great longing has possessed me so?

what demands me to make for the sea and dive into it’s waters?

as much as i want the answers,

                                                                    there is no coming back from it.

(i am young, but my soul is old. i can not remember what lead me here. i am not sure if i want to know.

so many years passed before i followed the call of the ocean. the anger has not left. but there is also sorrow, and joy.

i stand on the shore. waves brush against my feet. there is a storm building overhead. and when lightning falls and rain comes crashing down, the ocean rises up and swallows me whole.

the ocean sings its fury; what can i do but howl back?)