We face infinity with cold feet and bruised knees

And shirk away until it recedes;

Only to be surprised when it washes all over us again.

And in that moment, at the mercy of the tide

Some bastard existentialism

Squeezes your heart and opens your eyes

As you gaze up to stormy skies,

And distant lands across the water

Are far-off plans that you'd forgotten.

Wanting, craving, feeling, needing

The wave, it breaks and you're left reeling;

Still holding hands, and hand on heart-

Though conjoined, you feel so far apart.

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Author guidance for This poem

I found this in my journal. The rhythm gets a little weird, but let's just say I did that on purpose to express the confusion experienced by someone who wasn't expecting a wave to leap up at them.

In fact, the whole thing's a metaphor for 'missingness'.

Yeah, that sounds good.

updated Jan 1 '01 by Miserabilia