There is an end to my rope.
The lifeline, I held out to you…
Its woven ties bounded us together…
Idly it floated, waiting for you.

From the raft I see heads bobbing…
Like apples, under and over the surface of the sea–
–Baptized incessantly, with no savior insight.
No hope in sight, with a complete loss of sight.

The sun has repeatedly risen and set on this shipwreck
Rain and wind have both entered and dispersed.
And, yet, each day has always felt the same.
No progress made, no ripple made, no effort made.

Yet, change did come…
A flick of the wrist struck imagination.
Fingers uncurled received freedom…
Dropping the line–And, grasping the oars.

With some lives sinking, others demand ashore–
The horizon’s call must be silenced.
Just as heavy hearts must find the ocean floor.
And, my new day’s dawning–is the twilight of your yesterday.

– Monica
July 12, 2008

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