sea legs

I fell back into the first arms to catch me,
but he was a pond and you were an ocean,

And as he tried half heartedly to explain

the wonders of a pond, my mind was busy

living in the memories of your vastness.

Half wishing that I had fallen into something

with a little less depth, a little less danger

than your mysterious, tumultuous waters.

Your waves were too big,

I foolishly felt my sails could withstand you.

But I was on borrowed time and lost at sea,

and never had anything felt so painfully adventurous.

I never had a chance to earn my sea legs,

so why does solid ground still feel so foreign?

Labels: poetry