My back to the ocean,
photo courtesy Carrie Keohane
I didn’t see them coming.
I just kept getting knocked off my feet
and spun upside down in a salty somersault.
The flat spots grew piles,
The floor oozed grit,
The dishes dried on dirty
and all my efforts were always spent
just trying to get my head back in the air
and keep it up, treading water.
In a herculean effort I would jump
to clean with all my might to stay ahead of the next wave.
It would be beautiful
for a glorious moment,
but by the next day, whump.
Back to normal.
Floors sucking on the dirty clothes,
dust bunnies propagating,
I need a shower.
My head down, I’m drowning again
with my feet sprawling overhead.
I knew I couldn’t keep this up.
Desperate, I felt almost dead.
I was smothered in the life
ironically chosen by myself.
It kept pushing me under
over and over again.
I couldn’t catch the pattern.
I didn’t know about the tide.
My great expectations and reality
would constantly collide.
I had to turn and face the waves.
I had to run out to meet them as they’d come.
I had to plan for the surprises, too.
I simply had to find the sun.
By preparing and maintaining,
though I could not stop the tide,
my life got routinely easier than
going along for that ride.
© 2013 DarEll S. Hoskisson