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.

~~~

Namaste

__/|\__ Metta

2016.02.25

Image: Google