breathing underwater (a poem)
a poem, a friend, a connection
Friends,
Last Saturday I published the a ‘stack titled ‘breathing underwater’ that gave brief oversight on what it is like to parent (read: love) a child with explosive behaviors. In said ‘stack I likened grief and joy and would love for you to read it if you haven’t had the chance here.
Later that day, a friend sent me the beautiful poem below. It resonated so deeply that I knew I needed to share it here with you all. And bonus! It shared my title. Kismet.
This friend has a child who loves my son as a true friend. They live, play, fight, and learn in close proximity to one another, and my friend has stories that overlap with our own. When you find friends who “get it”, you hold on to them. And when they give you a gift like poetry, you share it.
Breathing Underwater
I built my house by the sea.
Not on the sands, mind you;
not on the shifting sand.
And I built it of rock.
A strong house
by a strong sea.
And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.
Good neighbours.
Not that we spoke much.
We met in silences.
Respectful, keeping our distance,
but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.
Always, the fence of sand our barrier,
always, the sand between.
And then one day,
-and I still don’t know how it happened -
the sea came.
Without warning.
Without welcome, even
Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand like wine,
less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.
Slow, but coming.
Slow, but flowing like an open wound.
And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.
And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.
And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.
That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbours,
Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbours,
And you give your house for a coral castle,
And you learn to breathe underwater.
Carol Bialock
To grief and joy and breathing underwater.
And to friends who “get it”—may others not be afraid to try.
Always,
Emily