Watery Workings

I couldn’t quite master how to walk on water

But I learned to swim to my depth
And come up for air
To orient myself
To see how far I was from shore

Or how self-contained I was
In my own pool of becoming

Was it primordial soup?
Was it a baptismal font?
Was it only tears I hadn’t cried
and then chose to plunge in?

I don’t know.

But I’ve learned to tread water long enough to understand
That sometimes
You gotta float

To gain a different perspective

And maybe there isn’t a lifesaver being thrown,
But amid the sermon, synthesis
and siren song
of yourself,

You can become your own lifeguard
And return your own self to solid ground.