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.