See, I tread underfoot
just touching the ground,
with the tip of my toe-
cast into slow-motion,
the air is so heavy,
oh, it presses against me;
everything bends into shape-
my curvy body,
with limbs, of arms, of legs,
scattered around me,
yet I am moulded,
into the deepest part
of the entire earth.
The dark is blinding,
yet I see glimpses of
round, glaring eyes
and pointy fangs.
But there are a multitude-
and they are completely
dotted across my view.
And though the water is black,
my eyes can see creatures-
yes, living creatures-
flicking their tail fins,
scooping up moving flecks
into their round mouths;
and, see, I can breathe
though my chest is full
and the water beats against me,
for everything is still and quiet.
YOU ARE READING
Strength
PoetryStrength is a selection of poetry about an inner spiritual strength. Sometimes when we are feeling most weak, our spirit opens up like a tree within us. Poetry has always been a way for me to express the beauty and strength I see in God's world when...
