Thoughts From The Bottom Of The Sea

When I was young I was eager and free,

believing in something came quite naturally.

Found new things to conquer and new hills to climb,

worked hard for perfection most all of the time.

 

Dug through information piled high as the sun

to find threads of truth I could weave into one.

I opened my heart and my mind to the sky,

wrapped all things together and understood why.

 

Dug deep to find purpose and when I was through,

had moments of clarity wherein I knew -

what my life was about, who I am, why I’m here,

then set out to change the world into a sphere.

 

For I learned how to change the flat plane we are on

into a fine circle of balance and song,

with flowers in the trees bearing fruit on each limb,

a world so much better than what we live in.

 

So I worked t’ward perfection in shaping the plane,

was told many times that I’m probably insane.

Pulled swords out of stone and defied gravity,

walked on the water but got lost at sea

 

where just like Saint Peter I sank into doubt,

and gasping for air I did not figure out

that the hand of the Lord was extended to save,

so I sank like a rock to a watery grave.

 

Now here at the bottom I lie in the cold,

crushed by the weight of a mass overload.

No light can reach me, my striving is through,

no hills to climb and no grand things to do.

 

No more do I conquer so eager and free.

Pity and doubt are what come naturally,

and the only thing anymore that I perfect...

this long list of everything that I regret.