drive into the gulf?

it always answered the question,
what to do next?
the paperclip to congeal every friendly conversation
a sanction, in its aftermath
a ritual, restitution

one day we might do it
but how far will we have to go? surely we can't stay
for two billion years, waiting for the oceans
to be drunk by that giving taking star

do you want to jump from my balcony to the lapping mother?
is the tide on its way in, before it goes?
we were ourselves, once, only fish
maybe just trying to get from one body of water to another

maybe trying to find or to fight something
maybe seeking an answer, a companion,
a light? a self-serving adventure? the machination
of patterns, sounds, the evolution of equilibrium?

a squid in a cage
maybe one day we'll be down among the waters
long enough we'll begin to breathe
but all I can see is sea after sea

bring the candy-striped towels
bubblegum soft weather and a baseball game on the radio
shift into gear
step, roll, dive, sink, however you must go alongside me

to the light
to rapture
to the deep
to sea to see to sea