In Deep
Will I ever see you again?
Misty dreams of
red rain
falling down
on cities, towns,
poison seeping down,
always down.
Will I ever see you again?
I sit (animation suspended)
beneath a most peculiar barrier,
this invisible wall I made for myself,
a prison of my own making.
Will I ever see you again?
What is this wine-dark sea Homer speaks of?
Were the ancient Greeks color blind?
Or was Homer saying the sea bequeaths
gifts of graciousness and affection?
To touch the sea is to
feel the ineffable.
Perhaps that is why touch
is the most spiritual of senses.
Will I ever see you again?
We share bits of ourselves
as my words wash over you.
It is your graciousness,
your affection,
that enables this exchange.
It is a shared event physicists
might call mutual phase locking,
or entrainment.
It takes less energy
to pulse cooperatively
than to pulse in opposition.
We entrain one another all the time.
Will I ever see you again?
Will you call me tonight?
Will I pick up?
