The Swimmer

A New Poem

I swim. Been doing it for, oh, 35 years or so. Whenever we have a poetry event coming up, I usually say poems to myself in the pool. It really passes the time. Once in a long while, I’ll find myself composing a poem while doing my laps. Unfortunately, by the time I’m home, my brilliant idea has usually vanished. But this one bubbled up (ha!) in my mind recently and it didn’t leave, maybe because swimming itself and my love of the water were the subject matter.

You may or may not swim, but I hope love of the elemental world strikes a chord.

The water takes her in,
	like a homecoming,
	like a familial embrace.
She gives herself over to it,
	appreciating how it 
	holds her, supports her.
The now buoyant body relaxes
	into strength,
	into healing.
Outside noise is erased,
	leaving only the burbling song
	of hand over plunging hand.
Stroke after slow stroke,
	there is only
	water and gratitude.
It's not that she thinks the elemental spirit
	 is her friend; she knows 
	it can take away as well as give.
But when it takes her in,
	like a homecoming,
	like a warm embrace,
It is everything.	

One of my all-time favorite pools - at the Kona Tiki Hotel on the Big Island