If this be the sea into
which you are cast,
swim.
Do not flounder
about like some
terrestrial ninny,
trembling for lack
of solid ground,
forgetful of
your vestigial gills.
Dive.
Your best ancestor,
one generation removed
from God, shone in
breathless space,
and those more
recent loved the
capacious and fluid
grace of water.
If this be the sea into
which you are cast,
swim.
Reclaim your prehistoric
fins; breathe
with every
ancestral lung.
Meditatio Ephemera 
Elegant. Oh how quickly so many have forgotten our roots, now afraid of nature, being land or water. -Russ
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Thanks, Russ! Plus, I got to use “terrestrial ninny,” which was on my poetic bucket list (along with “unbuckling (my) tymbals” :)).
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Haha!
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I love it! Thank you for the chuckle and mysterious inspiration! Mary
Sent from my iPhone
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You’re welcome, Mary!
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