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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2148738-Below
by Sorji
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2148738
pastoral poem about my happy place (one of them anyway)


I feel it slowly happening to me.

No one will take me there,

They fear that I'll never come back.

But I know the way by heart.

Many are afraid of it

But not me.

It is difficult to get there

By the nature of what it is

But once I'm there, it feels like I'm falling forever;

Like the blackness of space has unfurled around me

And accepted me as one of its own.

The body fights against

But the will overcomes and endures for a time.

A place where light and sound cannot reach

Beyond the silvery film that waves across the crest.

I revel in the victory of my temporary escape

Even though I know it's all still up there

Waiting for me.

I often think about the cold, blue water against my skin

To soothe and press my scattered mind into the mold.

The mold of Me.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2148738-Below