I find my self upon the ocean
far, far from land;
I cannot sense a hint of it,
even far, far beyond.
I’m floating on the surface of things
riding a raft of my own creation,
made up of pieces and parts –
tokens of my own broken past…
I know there mustn’t be solid ground near
for no birds fly here,
not even the albatross who often follows me
with his self-destructive tendencies.
But the water is calm today, as am I,
the waves gently rocking…
I lay back, stare at the clear blue sky
and gently drift to sleep…
Glancing over the edge of my make-shift raft
I see many glistening beings
swimming just below the surface –
a hint about those “things.”
My thoughts reach deeper still
to where the currents flow,
sensing potential danger (or enlightenment)
in the power of the undertow…
“Is this where tides begin?”
“And change?,” I’m wondering…
“Or merely the point of no return,
when whatever IS just drags you in?”
Deeper still the shadows grow
as even Light begins to hesitate;
“things” there are larger still
and frightening, perhaps, to contemplate…
Beneath them in the ocean’s depth
where Light completely fails,
blindness is a gift, protecting me
from what might be revealed.
Far, far from the surface,
where the greatest mysteries dwell…
That is where true Power lives…
in the most haunting “things” of All.
But floating on my make-shift raft
upon the surface of things
such power seems much too remote
to ever even touch me.
Until I wake…
To see those blue skies overrun
with storm clouds tall and threatening.
To hear the rumbling thunder
and watch the distant lightning.
To feel the swells begin to rise
as chaos stirs the surface.
To sense the instability
of my raft of broken memories.
Surprisingly, it is not Fear who comes to judge my progress…
Nor a desperate need to act.
Rather, the calm of the ocean I slept on
has strengthened its hold upon me.
And as the storm approaches,
I find my self… wondering…
just what I’ll choose to do
when this fragile raft I’m riding on
dumps me into the surrounding turmoil?…
Will I struggle to remain afloat?
Grabbing pieces of my broken raft,
renewing my commitment here and now
to staying on the surface?
Or will I let my little self go?
Sinking beneath the things
past the glistening beings
to the power far below?
If I trust my self enough…
One of those behemoths living in the deep…
Will slowly rise to meet (and greet) me.
And slipping gracefully beneath my feet,
will lift me up, just high enough…
for me to find my wings!
Freeing me at last
from the ocean’s clinging grasp
to fly far, far above
the ever present surface of…