why does it always have to be like rain falling
over me and sweeping me away to
wanting and wishing and hoping and imagining
when I always say that I will be holding strong
and clinging and grasping a firmly anchored rock
of security and durability and safety

is it that this rock in the river is just too
slippery, or sharp or just not enough
to hold me down in this place when
you come and the tide comes and I set sail
take off for waters that are colder and rougher
yet, deeper and clearer and more.

when I was young, I was afraid of the water
I was so content when I was simply
dry and safe and on the shore
but then you came along and you taught me
how to love and to live and to swim
but then you left me in the water,
in the pool, in the deep end
left me alone without a raft
without a lifeguard, with only
an insatiable desire to swim.

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