Drowning

You were drowning and

I called you back to life.

Across time, space, echoes

of sodden wave and foam.

Holding on from far 

distant dreams, but still

connected, even though

you did not know it. It

was only later, when you

told me the story of how

you had nearly died: were

pulled inexorably into the 

salted suck of sea, that I

understood why I had 

been holding on, drawing

you back to the light, to

yourself, to the world 

and to me. For that is 

the power of love when

it connects across time,

distance, fear, doubts,

delusion and dreams.

The screaming force

of ocean is nothing by

comparison, although

we forget that truth

constantly. And yet,

in the corridors of 

night I heard you call,

even as your mouth was

swollen with the fury of

the sea; heard it dance

upon the edges of my 

distant dreams, in slow

crusted whispers of 

fear. That call across

eternity and space, was

heard, is always heard

even from your mute

silence; your angered

disconnection, for the

depths of love can 

never be drowned by

fear, doubt, suspicion…

I heard you call and still

I hear you call.  

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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