Call Me To the Deep

My feet have grown accustomed
to sand and gravel along
the shore
where foam and tides
crawl up my ankles and
cool my soles.

And the water here is
murky
brown
silty
and altogether
comfortable,
a thin film of water
warmed enough by the sun
to be calming.

And the calm
is exhausting.

Because out beyond the foam
and the sand
and those murky brown waters,
I know there’s a crystal blue.

Call me to the deep
where there are
miles
below me.

Call me to where my feet thrash
just to keep my body
afloat,
where my chin bobs
desperately
above the chops and waves,
my mouth sucks in air where it can
and tastes the salt
that can’t be restrained
or measured.

Call me to where
it is unknown
and most beautiful,
to the depths that you
first used to craft
all that there is.
The deep that you
mastered.

And pull me into the deep
until the sun’s rays
pull away.

The shore is safe.
But the deep
is where I may
more steadily stand.

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