Navigating the Chaotic Seas
Water Listening to Empty Pleas
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
You must be logged in to post a comment.