He must reach up to what he can’t below.
A solemn song the twilight will now sing.
Into dark depths, winding paths to follow.
What good there can the nighttime to him bring?
An age of waiting on the ocean floor,
Patience for questions that delay answers.
Inhabited by his greatest fears; more
Than a passing phobia or cancer.
One wonders if there’s breath under water,
He has been drifting down there for so long.
His arms, can he bring himself to bother?
Perhaps. He’ll soon find that his arms are strong.
In swimming towards the surface he will find,
Darkness and light, both, are repaid in kind.
Posted in Rise Above, Sonnets
Tagged arm, dark, depths, fear, find, light, phobia, poem, poetry, reach, sonnet, strong, surface, swim, swimming, twilight, water
A crisis not of many words
And terrifying in its simplicity.
Approaches from behind the shadows
Cast by ones own identity.
“Who am I?” then “Who are you?”,
The better question arises.
The answer relative, in a vacuum of what society despises.
One cannot respond with their name,
Though that is all what is expected.
This excludes the discovery made while one sits calm, and collected.
Incomplete and not entirely untrue,
It is enough to sedate the curiosity.
The oceans surface like a name does not reveal its own entirety.
This cannot be answered by a question only of the surface.
Through quests of years, and trails of tears,
An outcome far from worthless.