Most vast and improbable
Ocean of Nows:
Too long have we struggled alone on your glistening surface,
flailing these bloated limbs of thought.
Too long have we leapt from one leaky inner tube identity
to another,
clutching hard until they sank:
devoted partner,
spiritual seeker,
lamenter of a big brother-bound planet.
Enough of this grabbing at floating toys.
This kicking mass of “I don’t knows”
is tired and ready to sink
and the fraudulence of the fictional “me”
is finally more disturbing
than any humiliating decent.
Suck us down, Mother Mystery,
suck us down
into the terrifying,
breathless
world
of who we are:
a wave in love
with ocean.
