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| photo from merseawildlife.blogspot.com |
From the rain soaked ash,
From the muck.
This time, it didn't plead or yearn
And sink back in despair.
This time it stretched, breathed,
And landed firmly on a craggy rock.
It smiled. My hand smiled.
It knew what had just happened.
It didn't know ahead of time
it was going to grasp the rock.
But it knew now,
the way only hands can know,
The inevitable unfolding of events
That was sure to follow.
The force that caused
My hand to fiercely grip
Next made my arm to flex and coil.
This arm that hung dormant for many lives
With no resistance,
Now surged with ambition.
My body follows
Rising up.
Emerging from the deep.
My leg lifts a foot.
My foot finds placement on the rock.
The solid rock.
How free. How firm. How present
Is the rock.
I stand.
I stand!
I stand on solid rock.
I stand solid on the rock!
I walk and
Almost don't look back.
But I want to remember
What it looks like from this side of the
pit.
