Ocean Song

author's note:

Is there a human mouth that
doesn’t give out soul-sound?
         -- Rumi (trans. Barks)


OCEAN SONG

The day after a death
I feel the shock
of final loss
yet also the joy
of knowing that life--

I’m overwhelmed and tossed about
by capricious waters--
suddenly
lifted from my sadness
by a surge of loving gratitude

then in the next moment
yanked down again
by the undercurrent of grief.

Struggling mightily in this chaotic mix
I feel the power of my emotion
and realize myself to be
someone greater
than the one who does those daily chores.

But as my chest continues to tighten
I fear I’ll die if I don’t let loose.

So though I dread the work
I try…I try…I try
to express the inexpressible:

again and again and again
I aspire upward
riding a geyser of words

only to fall short
and slap down on the ground

in an overheated sprawling spill
again and again and again.

But I guess these messes
still reflect the blue sky above.

In any case
as a human being
you’re probably well-acquainted
with the blessed curse of feeling
so maybe you’ll tolerate
(or even appreciate)
a pipe who spouts lines
like these:

drowning in feeling
we try, in desperation
to empty our hearts
by shouting out
an ocean song.

© 2022, Michael R. Patton
Soultime: a novel