slipping

eecea97668e8c33c89576776853eccd4

.

Oh

.

I think

I’ve made a mistake

.

I thought I was the ocean

water and salt filling my bones

that I could continually wash to shore

over and over and over and over and over and over

.

no

I’ll not do it

if it means love has to wait

for me to be flesh

tender

as all living things

.

who am I

but

human

.

.

photo: Matt Wisniewski

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25 responses

  1. …transition…love…waiting…there is this sense of purpose…a sense of yielding to a meaningful call…and if there is this call, then there could be a revelation…a revelation that could be trans- formative, enlightening, life-altering…in any case, there could be some profound changes…the key as i see it is in the waiting and in deep understanding and humility…this means being true to life, which is a path to personal growth…

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  2. another pearl. there’s an aura of timelessness in all your verse … i especially love how you punctuate this poem with images of the sea. xo tony

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  3. We are ship to shore
    me a lighthouse
    adoring
    and you bobbing up and down,
    back and forth
    on the waves
    teasing
    you glide effortlessly,
    exploring the depth of blue
    waters,
    zigzag over hot currents
    coasting past coral reefs

    I want to reel you in
    though you need no mooring,
    no anchor
    instead you set off
    your sudden impulse
    to chart a course, to weather
    and brave monsoons,
    in search of the pearl
    in your life.

    we are ship to shore
    but can’t you see?
    the wind will cast you away
    the ocean might swallow you
    whole

    If I let go
    we will become severed
    your spirit will be free.

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    • What a beautiful complimentary verse, Lee, that spins another tale we go round and round. I am loving this corroboratory spirit with my fellow writers as we give flesh to our distinct and individual voices. Thank you for gracing these pages!

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      • Thank you Jana, when you wrote about your grand daughter I was drawn too with thoughts about my daughter Isabel, seeing her from the shoreline as she swims out into the waves, I stand on tiptoes, holding my breath, instinctively I want to reel her back in.

        It’s a struggle for me learning to let go with her, trusting my daughter to swim without me, seeing she’s managing without me, she a big girl…but it’s still a struggle. So it’s a love poem this bond, this cord between, and about letting go.

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  4. Lovely…as is everything I’ve read here so far. Thanks a ton for following my “Randa Lane…” haiku blog as I now follow yours with anticipation and delight! Yours is the most mature poetic voice I’ve read anywhere online or elsewhere…in quite some time! Bravo!

    -R-

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  5. “I thought I was the ocean”

    You were, you are still, and you will always be the ocean. Every drop of water – You. You Created it, You sustain It, You are It.

    At least, that what science and theory have proven Me to be.

    Thanks for the bread crumb, Jana.

    Peace on Earth,

    Ik

    Like

    • I am, we are, indeed, Erik…

      Inside I am the ocean
      Rolling over mountains
      Water and salt fill my bones
      Until the rain leaves softer footprints….

      This poem is a counterpoint to Slipping. It is the balancing of “humanness” that impresses upon me….a delicate reciprocity.

      Like

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