The Sea

The sea of people:

murky waters
filled with silt
and the debris
of past meetings

It crashes like waves,
And I can surf them, riding only their surface,
Or I can take my chances —
Dive into its awesome forces;
Be swept along its inevitable path;
Rise desperately to breathe,
Or fail to.

I can transform,
Grow fins and gills,
Live among them in the pressured silence of the deep.

But I cannot forget the sky.
Clouds.
Air.
Stars.
The streak of a falling star.
The tiny puff of wind that disturbs your hair.

And you are not here,
In this infinite blue world where everything can fly.

So I elect to remain aground,
Forever on this shore.
Where perhaps you will come one day,
Looking for seashells.

Los Angeles, May 9, 2014

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