By Connie Cruthirds
Waves come fast.
Prepared, I grasp hold of what I can
knowing I can’t control the ocean.
Drowning was my specialty.
Strapping my ankle
to heavy bottom coral
while asking for help
was my pattern woven by habits.
They choked the breath out of my lifetime.
Time lines carved onto paths
that twist and curve
so I can’t be followed into truth.
builds strength for lungs
that will someday scream,
“Stop” at me
who strolls along
as if all is okay.
the ones who live inside of me,
sit this morning in the shadows
unwilling to play this game of hide
but don’t be seeked.
Weary, I untie my ankle from the coral.
Effortlessly I float to the surface.
Last flickers from dark sky’s stars,
ease my welcoming back to breath.
Buoyed by the fat of salvation
I need not swim.
my lungs inhale
all that is fresh
pulling in deep
the calm of the night.
Abruptly their longing
to let go, did.
Guttural screams ensued,
as the heavens reached down their mighty hands
to stir sound into a symphony of belonging.
“Scream,” they said,
“For your heart aches.
Your being quakes.
Real life shakes worn out roots.
Old anchors tied to heavy coral cut, bind.
They held tight
when life’s fight was human made
but you are not.
Floating on this surface
as moon begins to pack it in for the night,
scream, sigh, slap the water
until you begin to remember who you are.
Already whole. Complete. Made in an image
that only needs to be reflected on your path forward.
the ones you love,
The ones you ache for,
Must be set free to float
under early morning moon,
and feel the touch
of last minute stars
twinkling on their face.
For this is life.
Release roots formed from fear and control.
Trees cannot grow from sources disconnected from reality.
For now, float here
until morning sun stretches her first ray
warmly caressing your cheek,
awakening what went dormant within.
Hear the song of the seas
echoing back your screams
to let you know
you are alive,