Meditation

Fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
their lives in three dimensions, they jump into the air
escaping larger fish, schools of large and small fry
but up above their ceiling fly birds who eat them there
I dwell on the flat, can jump on land or fly in planes
go right or left or back or front, but less up and down
did seals come onto land but regret the ocean main
return to ocean free again to swim around
my daughter’s team synchronized at the surface of the pool
legs held straight out then spiral down into the water’s embrace
breath held, they disappear, they seem to break the rules
of oxygen. I hold mine too until they surface for a space
fish fly in the ocean, water is their sky
sometimes we dream of heavens where we remember how to fly

_______________________

My daughter was a synchronized swimmer from age 7 to high school, then swim team. Her comfort in the element of water is way beyond most people.

My daughter entering her other element.

The close picture was taken with my zoom lens, but she was not close at all.

I was “life guarding” though she was out far enough that there was not much I could do.

_________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sturdy. I am not sure why. I was thinking that the ocean is sturdy and that fish can swim in more dimensions than we humans on land. And swimmers are sturdy too.

I took the first photograph in 2017 at the Baltimore Aquarium.

cold water

The first picture is two swimmers on December 21, 2021. I declined to join them!

A male wigeon at Kai Tai Lagoon, March 2022.

More ducks at Kai Tai Lagoon, March 2022.

Some really expert swimmers having a rest, off East Beach, Marrowstone Island, March 2022.

And a video of another expert swimmer hanging out by the Port Townsend Ferry Dock, June 2022.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: SWIM.

Valentine

I am thinking of you
my love my valentine
on valentine’s day
at two in the morning

two to too
much to bear
I want to be a tiger
not an ox

disabled
but still strong
I settle into the traces
again

the load is placed
I look at my path
gather my strength
turn on my oxygen
and pull

no one expects
an ox on oxygen
to be able to pull

you don’t either

why do you think
so little of me
why do you scorn
what I do

when you return
you find
traces of the wagon wheels
on the ground

but once I am on the road
you can’t follow
you can’t find me
any more

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt slender, as in slender hope.

The photograph is neither an ox nor a tiger, but a sea lion, off of Marrowstone Island, Washington.

the problem with angels

the problem with angels
is that they aren’t grey

nor do they have color

they are black
or white

sort of boring, really

pick one side
good or evil
night or day
male or female

I would rather be fluid

I want to be able to transform

liquid to solid
solid to gas
gas to solid
gas to liquid

flow around things

seep into the earth

always always
return to the sea

keep your wings

project black or white
as you choose
on me

while I flick water at you
and go for a swim

_____________________

written 2014

Sea of Love

Poem: Sea of Love

I go in the sea
of dreams
open the chest
the trunk
the saddlebags
Empty the dirty laundry
Of emotion
On the floor
Grief and joy
Fear and hope
Mine
All mine

There is a place
Beyond words
I see you in that place
It is very old
And very young
It is so frightening to go there
Lose words
The first time
It is haunted and hunted


Are you aware
Of that place
Do you go there
Of your own volition?
Or do you struggle
Fight and suffer in the
Choppy boundary between air and water
Fear drowning
Water surrounds you
Above you too
You are in the wordless place
Over your head
Are you too deep?

Open your eyes
In the green water light
A mermaid waits to lead you
To a rope to a raft
And me

But first you must open your eyes

Swimmers

There were long distance swimmers out going parallel to the shore on my last beach walk. Four of them. Women, because voices carry over the water. Brrr, but wearing wet suits. Good for them, I’m jealous.

I had my big camera with the serious zoom. The swimmers would stop to talk.

swimmers in the sound at North Beach

They don’t look tired or cold or stressed, do they? They were ending their swim back at North Beach.