On living

He did confess then.

“It is hard,” he had said,

Living on a raft

Some days

The tarpaulin needs to be brought out

For hours, even days,

Keeping out

Everything.

Creating

a cocoon

Equal parts safety

And loneliness

 

Some days,

It is

The rough seas

The tides

And then

For hours

One doesn’t know

If the raft

will survive

or capsize

But that, he had said,

is the beauty

of the raft.

You cannot easily break something

that is already

broken down

to the barest bits.

 

Some days, he had said

are pure bliss too.

When the weather is calm

you can hear the waves

create that gentle splash.

on those days

he understands

how little we need

the walls

we are constantly building

around us.