Dropping into this Friday with the second installment of this ocean-focused series, featuring thoughts on not-explaining the joke, Black Swan, being consumed by creation, and surfing. Poem below in audio and text formats!
He Was the Best Shaper for Miles
So you come to me with your arms full of water,
Which to me says you float
Which to me says hope
But who am I to your Noah’s ark?
Can you call yourself blessed if you’re blind to the dark? Because
I heard that you sleep alone with the lights on.
I heard that you carve like your hands are pure scythe.
I heard that you crave waves like your brothers do,
But I’ve not seen you there,
Never seen that love in you.
So you come to the water with your arms full of promise
Like a bouquet of jasmine spilling over a sigh
Which to me says you’re ready
For something new—but, what?
I heard that you heard voices in the mango tree—
That they told you to go and see
What it would mean to fall
And now you crawl.
What were you doing up there, asked your family.
This we will never speak of, you mumbled,
So of course they ask every day. Their eyes full of water,
They wonder and wander,
While you run off and squander their grace.
Now you cover your eyes
And I don’t know your face.