The storm on the sea was cliché

The storm on the sea was cliché
I want to reach out well beyond the safety
Of the boat I cower in
Dive through the waves
Down below them
Watch the crash that follows each peak
I want to let the last remnants
Fall from my shoulders
And dance freely among
The angels’ tears
Yet I am rooted by
The battered stubbornness that remains
Clutching frantically at threads
That keep me from being exposed
I am overcome with knowing, with fear
And only the tiny freedom
Painted within me
Is the pastoral vision of a pine
Resting by a fragrant meadow
in the shadow of a majestic mountain
if, if, ,if, only if plays with each crashing way
each crashing wave
it is well beyond what I want now
beyond waiting for the storm to calm
well beyond the next breath



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