These Waters

I have stroked my way
through great lengths  
And currents    
Of uncertainty    
   
Come ripple    
Come shoot  
And it seems    
In this moment    
I did not miss  
   
It's pull  
Through doubt  
Through once devastating    
Remorse  
That had grabbed my ankles  
To tug me under  
   
To see my face    
In airless whisper  
Bubbles of scream    
I could not muster    
Rise  
And rise slowly    
And swallow into it  
   
Hollow panic    
I could not choke    
But only beg for wind  
Until I surfaced    
To the welcoming sun    
And beloved movement  
   
To float into    
Destination    
Would have been lovely  
To ride Christ like    
Down blue waters    
Seems choice    
However unattainable    
   
I can only imagine  
Caressing the ease and cool    
With fingers that did not curl    
With desperation  
   
But that was not my case  
Was not my stream    
Was not my river    
   
I imagine Congo bends  
And U shaped turns    
Of ambiguity and great confusion  
Or the dense and uncharted    
Regions of the Amazon    
And like minded    
Extreme    
Highly unpredictable    
Pourings  
   
And in them I would recognise    
My journey  
And feel kinship    
And great pride    
In spite of the struggle  
And uneven pace of my dig  
   
For every stroke has taken me    
to where I am  
And away from where I've been
 
I let the residuals  
Drip down my thigh
I finger them from my hair
And am reminded  
Of the hard motion  
And deep waters that cling
 
I sigh and watch them  
fall from my skin
And direct my gaze
And satisfaction  
Up and towards the sky