I look out at the Atlantic.
This is my view, everywhere I turn.
I see it in my waking hour and something in there reminds me that…
As much as I’d like to imagine my ancestors, many of whom were thrown to the bottom
On their forced vacation to this paradise, rose…
They sank.
Only to live on in me.
I step into the Atlantic.
As the sunbeams on my silver crown
Creating a brighter more luminous dramatic expression and I step…
Wondering how long bones take to erode…
To turn to sand. I don’t like how that thought feels under my feet so
I float
I look up at God
I wonder if she sees me.
I let my ears submerge and
All I can hear is an ultrasound of
My own heartbeat.
Btoom
Btoom
Btoom
I let myself doze
Comforted by the hell of bones beneath me.
My body buoyant and
Beautiful and
Black.
This is home now.
Home.
I don’t know another home that isn’t deeply woven into
My consciousness
I open my eyes
The bright sun has been replaced by
An even brighter moon.
It is silent
And dark. I have no idea how long I’ve been floating
In this huge amniotic Atlantic…
STAND!
Stand up!
Stand Tall.
Stand.
I flip
Vertical.
My feet search for sand, yet
I only feel the pulse of the water between my toes.
The beachgoers…gone
The beach itself…vanished
I am one with the moon.
The darkness envelops me.
My fear.
My folly.
My pride.
My instinct.
Relinquished.
I lay back again
Buoyed by my belly.
I float and then
I sink.
God is down here too.
She holds me and
I am born anew.