of the heavy ocean
flows over me from
the endless buckets
being bailed overboard
from the countless
human skiffs on
the rolling sea.
"The sea is so wide
and my boat so small."
The waters gather
and collect, pooling
in the bottom of my
vessel; never filling up
beyond the magic
line even with my
siphoning escape.
I am not holding
all that is being
shared with me or
showered on my boat
from others on the move.
It leaks out and
it is rolling back,
back to the roiling sea.
Gather not and hold not
the waters of all the
grief and loss of others.
Let them go and
paddle on.
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