October 16, 2015
I fell to the bottom of the sea.
Where on sand,
extraordinary creatures swam
and each whispered me to leave the cloaking darkness.
Surrender, I had, to the drop with only vague vision.
It was a pull they whispered, taken I had been by my heart strings full with blood.
My body floated on the surface,
my mind filled with pictures of unseen creatures,
which might be found below.
I was ready for the promise, a gift,
Salted water weighed heavy on my ankles,
a peaceful drag took me.
Hair tangled in itself,
my body found the floor.
Surrounded by rawness,
the whispers began.
I was not meant for this world beneath air,
in the darkness,
without what I knew as light.
I should climb to the sea surface
as a sherpa to a mountain summit, they said.
I am to live as others the same do, they said.
My heart did not want to venture back
to stillness nor to sameness.
I tethered my heart strings to ancient rocks resting,
so as to plant my stance.
I bathed in different waters.
Deep sea cold on skin only warmed.
I surrendered to the novel.
The hidden no longer hid.
I surrendered to this gift.
I surrendered to my gospel.