The ocean has made me round and smooth

like the others, but unlike them

I am not steady.  Long is not long to me.

 

Each time a wave pours over my head

I rock a bit.  A rock who can rock,

even a little, can dream.

 

Soon.  Yes, soon this restless water

will lift me up from my bed

and out to sea.  I have no wish

 

to lie for ages near the shore

in heavy patience, wearing away.

Swimming is what I’m destined for.

 

Imagine floating over the floor

to touch each thing underwater

lightly, as the butterfly fish brush me.

 

Dance of water, carry me with you,

let me sway on invisible feet!

My one resolve is to move.  My prayer:

 

Do not leave this stone unturned.

There now, I’m sure

I loosened just a little more.

 

 

 

 

Cricket Magazine, July  2004

 

 

 

 

 

 

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