Into the sea of chaotic plea, dare I step into the dark shadows of the night? The sky lies subzero — blistering, frigid — a frozen horizon.

Calmly,
I walk into the sea of chaotic plea.

The water does not welcome me — snarling in broken voices — each wave a question without mercy, each current a memory clawing at my ankles.
Salt stings like confession on open skin — wind chanting names I once buried.

Above me, the stars refuse alignment — scattered witnesses to my hesitation. Below, the deep yawns wide — not empty, but waiting,
heavy with all the things never said — all the prayers that learned how to scream.

Calmly,
I walk into the sea of chaotic plea.

I move forward anyway. Fear learns my breathing — matches it step for step, until it no longer leads. The cold hollows me — strips me down to pulse and will, to the simple defiance of staying upright.

Somewhere between the last solid ground and the first true descent,
I understand:

the sea is not the chaos —
I carried that with me.

The water only listens. And for the first time, so do I.

~Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh