The Artwork: Waves, or The Depths
The Poem: The Distance Between Waves
You see it everywhere.
The wave crests and crashes
flowers bloom into the wind and wither
our breath leaves us
returning on the heels of its own exit.
They make it look easy, these systems
fed by continual shedding.
They have no fear of letting go.
And why should they?
The wave knows it’s the ocean,
the flower knows it must feed the dirt,
the autonomic body knows
there’s no room for life
if we do not release the breath
we’re holding.
Humans aren’t so lucky.
Hearts cannot see
what letting go will bring.
Only our bones know
the future (carrying death
so casually), & if we go
the way of bones
we
let
go
and see
the terrifying void
where our forever flower should be
and become
the distance between waves
where anything could be.