My relationship with the shore has always been this.
Nothing but sea and sky.
Nothing else in my head.
How far ive drifted from even this, my most basic of anchors.
It’s enough even just to feel the edges now,
the edges of myself seem satisfying now.
Ill take it.
I recognize it’s not just me, but Earth that is also trembling.
She is heaving, insides upturning. like so many times before,
Millenia folded upon millenia, reaching, streatching.
We become like the dry river bed spreading like tentacles that quickly dry in the sun’s encompassing snare.
Unsure when our banks will taste the water but still we reach.
Submit I said.
He knows this is his challenge, says he can not, will not submit.
The word vibrates like rain striking the ground
Soon this, I can so plainly see, will be under the sea
To submit, I know is not a surrender but an act of active listening
like turning to face the wind so she knows you have aknowledged her
I describe it as an instinct, knowledge we were born with; to submit is to activate the divine deep in the marrow
We were taught how to submit, to place forehead on ground in supplication
There is peace to be found in greeting the earth
But what is prayer to us now?
Oceans removed from where we were meant to be
He will not bow down
Submission requires pliancy, the ability to bend as to avoid breaking
I ask the earth to remind me and here I am doing the reminding.
Sometimes its easy to forget, among the sameness and drudgery- that we are in love
That we are saving each other
that we are catching each other when we fall
that our souls are in communion
we were drawn together for this unraveling-of this I am certain.