bodies of water

i am drawn to bodies of water.

the atlantic insinuating itself into my childhood, through my twenties --

here i pause, daily, wistful, at lake michigan.

i am drawn to vastness, into which i can place myself,

a drop of something, an insignificance.

the water moves with mathematical precision.

crosslegged, sand grating in my toes,

i watch its turbulence, impotent, content.

there is comfort in a null direction:

no, as you turn to the east, you cannot go that way.

you are adrift.

your life is a constant chain of currents;

floating on your back in the undulating tides.

you are obsessed with the horizon:

the juxtapositions --

in my head are the oceans and the rivers,

a maelstrom, a sucking into the depths.

yet i am here, still,

adrift but floating,

watching the horizon and the shifting tides.