Sunday, 19 January 2014

In the Ocean

Sometimes, life seems 
like a dredger: 

we are pulled along 
by unseen forces, 
bickering amongst ourselves 
as we squabble and fight, and 
all the while the boat 
still chugs along. 

We are the fish at the top of the net, 
struggling for breath 
and daylight. 

Below us are those who do not stand a chance 
but still fight on. And below them 
are long dead and 
suffocated creatures.

And left behind 
in all of this 
is a seabed 
left decimated 
and debauched.

But life does not have to be like this: 
it will only ever be like this 
if we carry on seeing ourselves 
as the fish. 

Some want to be one of those men on the boat;

I just want to be the ocean,

pulling in and out
with the billow and blow of the wind,
the hug and release of the moon,
the gulp and the scallop
of the gulls and the land;

as waves form, and break, to their own tune,
and the world cups us briefly in its old, loving hands.

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