I am floating in a dark river
Sometimes it rages
Sometimes it’s smooth
Always it flows.
When it rages I can hoist the sails
Or drop them as the wind implores
I can fight against the rain and wind,
Dodging the rocks and circumventing the deadly shore.
But when it’s smooth – please, God, let it not be smooth —
When the current gently rocks
Beseeching my mind on and on
Like a slow, unstoppable tidal wave
It turns to a whirlpool of despair.
As it ebbs boulders into pebbles.
The hollow current,
The empty waves,
Mixing my head with my heart
But without discerning, and without cause.
Just swirling, swirling, swirling.