The Gate

When the barrier stays down

a micro phonic voice

stutters ‘I can’t see you on my screen,

what’s the name again?’

There’s no real need to panic

even though panic’s a bodily instinct;

it’s more a need to wonder, be curious

about that continuing need to breathe

and that you really deserve to live

a little longer, to feel butterflies

in the gut and be tickled

for a while, licking lips,

coldly sensing fresh air,

one breath, next step, blinking.

Life

In sea shallows, I slope a toe

and feel that first shock

of electricity

when a little wave arises.

I take a step ahead now,

numb to the shinbone,

anticipating

what to do next. To fight

for consciousness,

flee into apathy,

wait?

Skip ahead and a new wave catches

thighs - bring it on -

and another forward-move

until a boomer whacks my chest

to almost a topple

of torso and water.

I keep walking

beyond mindful tricks

of cold and danger

to go again

another time,

another push

knowing that heart is red and strong

with muscles a-tightening

ready to leap

and be lifted,

surrender

and swim.