I don't even know what to call these...
what would you call them?
I didn't actually sit down with pen and paper and then think and write.
Words just floated up overnight from somewhere in my subconscious.
Maybe they are just letters huddled together after fishing them out of a murky sea
that is my mind.
Not all of them survive.
Some descend into darker depths; others wash ashore the next day on the shifting sand.
A wave can wipe them away or a new tide claims them.
So, you can jump without fear into your own turbulent sea and face the relentless waves, the unpredictable swell.
You might float on the surface, be dragged down, gasping for air.
You might even swim and enjoy... or you might just drown...
Related Subjects
Poetry