blowing the ballasts: a return to buoyancy

metal vessel creeks, moans

water seeps along interior walls,

under benthic depths pressure builds,

descending further, abysmic lightless

no sight.


releasing my breath in bubbles,

nothing left to give, apathy sets in.

ballasts filled with cold heavy water,

the descent continues.


like a wet blanket words and fires

asphyxiated. hard to hear muses

ears popping, muffling voices.

only faith and radar pings

navigation brings.


feeling breathless, broken,

sinking further, uncharted

hull unbreachead, seeking,

searching, myself, beseeched.


taking no more depth, now finally

surrendering the weight of my breath

and pain i turn now, ready to ascend

again. “blow the ballasts!,” i shout.


sunlight penetrates murky depths

benthic below me, empathy returns

finding in heart spaces, forgiveness

for myself, hardest to give & receive.


breaching, no longer beseaching.

lost; now found.

new heart spaces recovered.

another return to positive buoyancy.



__/|\__ Metta


Image: Google

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