I  woke up this morning

and wrote an email–

I wrote a sincere email

to a bitter heart, who’d forgotten

what the real struggle was, if

there really was one.

I woke up and wrote an email

that will probably pass, their port

like a ship in the night, unnoticed

in the darkness of their harbor,

where the buoy is bouncing.

 

I stood for a few moments

on the harbor floor, at that shore.

The lighthouse out,

walled in by darkness–

rough waves beating against her

and a fog horn sounding

in the distance, striving

to reach

the shore

unharmed.

 

Suddenly, and unprompted,

tears of the heart welled up,

tears that will be lost

in that ocean where unseen

small drops of

uncircumcised,

untheorized

and unrelenting

thankfulness

for this day

breathed in the salt sea air

of my own harbor

of my own port

to see the light on there

shining, brighter than before

and knowing a larger sea

which embraces it all.