The Drowning (An Original Poem)

Despite repeated warning, we wade in past the water's edge

feeling it's shockingly cold with small, infrequent pools of warmth

making our skin taught and strong

until we're saturated, taking on weight.

With lost footing, gliding into an effortless current, we ride the
path until it begins to churn and twirl and shift
forcing us to navigate from the obstacles
to avoid pain, harm and danger.

Joined by undertow and rip-tide, we are now
jostled and forced and out of control
floating in directions that we can't change
finding no strength to divert ourselves.

Thrown, pulled under and banged up, our response
is to stay calm and breathe and keep above water
frequently bobbing under but fighting for our life
though we are no match.

Taking on more than we can handle, we gasp and
reach for any lifeline as there's a brief moment of
questioning our abilities, stability and sanity
and whether to continue the fight or just give in.

Completely immersed and holding our breath, the gap closes
between certain demise and safety with distance from escape
rapidly increasing forcing us to accept our new plight
floating, seeing our past before us, staring out blankly into the abyss.

From within, our instictive nature enacts, and we shed
anything not necessary in our survival, tearing off layers that weighed us down
until we are left with stark nakedness, thrashing toward
our new hope and second chance, lighter.

Our body emerges from the dark and deep, exhausted from
the fight, gasping for air, searching for footing, surveying our new position
and looking at a new exit strategy that's full of hope on the banks
of our regained sanity.