Life After Drowning

It occurs to me now
That all that remains unseen,
Unheard, unfelt, unknown to us
Does not do so for its elusiveness -
But for the lost opportunity
Of unwillingness and inability.

The images that exist in darkness,
The songs that fly by on wings of silence,
The weight of transparent, paper thin
Contact lenses sitting, not floating, on corneas
Are never nonexistent,
But are often… overlooked.

The fleeting colors of so called reality,
The crash and bang of everyday,
And the heaviness of the clothes we wear
To cover up our own nakedness
Steal our attention –
And close our eyes and ears and hearts
To the everything-else we dare not know.

We are, it seems
Nearly always, half asleep
In our wakefulness.

Until - unless - we stumble into
That pool of forgotten clarity
And drown ourselves there
(in a half inch of rain water, even)
Until the lungs of numbness fill
And foolishness dies
So that we may, finally – open, wide,
Long neglected ears and hearts and eyes

And, by virtue of overwhelming awareness
Become unwilling and unable to deny
How we were truly meant
To live our lives.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

You appear to be an existentialist at heart.
Just as I finished reading this poem, a movie came on TV - a blind man dancing with a pretty damsel he's fallen in love with, and she with him. Why would a girl fall for a man who would never see her - the silences of voices unheard, the images that form in the dark, as you say, Austin. It's all out there and we can only sift what we can from all the unwritten letters of life, which we nevertheless read, for they are thrust on us. This gives us hope, real hope. a moving write
A real winner, Christine: you manage to say what others think but haven't got the words. Thank you.
٭ ٭ ٭ ٭ ٭ 5star poem. you have opened a new way of seeing life. it feels like one has literally drowned and was given a second chance to live. amazing.
Your words hit a sweet note, Christine. Yes indeed. How many of us live our lives amid 'The crash and bang of everyday, ' and fail to notice the everyday miracles happening all around us. Perhaps it takes an experience of 'drowning' - of letting go of everything - in order to experience the limitless possibilities of existence. Your 'drowning' metaphor is perfect. Your poem is beautifully written. I salute you. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
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