As life’s tsunamis sweep us from the strand,
We find ourselves struggling to stand.
Water and debris crashing down around us, upon us,
Some never come to the surface.
The dark depths of the ocean drag them down,
the cold currents of the sea,
suck them into eternity.
We that finally lift our heads,
above us, clouds and sky and watery threads.
We breath deep, thankful to be alive,
the taste of the air, survivors of the seismic dive.
To survive the sea you find a boat,
looking around you notice one afloat.
Barely remaining adrift, brimful of water,
as if to beckon you to the slaughter.
You drift around desperately seeking the shore,
relentlessly prodding the sea with your oar.
sometimes its visible, mostly its just a hallucination,
you continue despite the knowledge that its your imagination.
Look over the bow and you will see
more boats around, and one of those is me.
You are not alone my dear,
for despite the distance I still am near.
Fighting to keep my own vessel afloat,
I am not far from you in your little boat.
Together we turn, together we yearn,
together we will our bobbing boat,
towards the land we dare them to float.
Through uncertainty and pain, steadfast we will remain.
And one day, together, we will stand,
on that hard and stable strand.