water is my hand

what’s it like being water.

       remember, no question marks.

not water in a glass.   not coming out of a faucet.
not in a bottle, no matter the shape.

something free.   that’s the water I want to be.

looking out a window, there’s Monterey Bay.

       that would be more than fine.

       that would be a relationship to last for life.

       fish & squid & crabs, some whales too.

       heaven beneath our feet.   water is.

feeling, tasting, embracing every thirst,
they’d find me close in, your shoreline found,

       the edge of being, adored.

in-between your toes.   don’t be shy.
there was a man I knew, no, more than that.
       he sang a song.

       it became my own, became clay in my hands.

       there’s one line, the answer to pain is love.

today that feels hard to accept.   my fault

I think not being open for love to enter me.

       do you notice, pain only begins from inside.

come water waves, wash into me.   my prayer.

and now I remember another man who taught me prayer
       with his dying breaths.

       he’s now gone, but prayers remain.
how much ocean is in a spoon.   (a question, yes)
I can’t write poems any more.

this isn’t me writing this.   if words appear, don’t blame me.

if I can become empty enough, maybe ocean will arrive.

I pray to be a better bowl.

MBA webcam views of Monterey Bay used with permission.
please visit and/or support the Monterey Bay Aquarium.   
they make the ocean more alive.   us too.

please do enlarge the header image.

2 thoughts on “water is my hand

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