the burn

A sea creature trudges
through waters thick with movement,
full of heat and wave
because he knows what he is.
His purpose is himself.

And pretending to be a fish,
I trudge, trudge, trudge
through waters
and come up dry.
Scales glistening in the sun,
but parched and thirsty,
so thirsty.

Flop, flip-flop to the next pool,
the next moon, the next sun.
Sometimes even the stars guide me.
Sometimes nothing.

And this pinch in my soul,
this ache that has been since
the beginning of time (I think when I fell).
It cannot find rest.
It cannot lay down with me
and wake up as smoke
puffing out over the hill.
No! It plumes, it ravages!
It is a signal for war.

So, I run for cover
from myself.
The body begs the legs,
“Move each time the flame comes near your heels!”

And the ground is always hot.
I cool myself in beauty, bodies, in comfort, in...

And the sea creature goes,
he moves on
when underwater volcanoes errupt.
He feels the hot lava moving through current,
and is unscathed.
He travels on,
getting nourishment and
being discerning,
and cautious.

But, I’m running.
With family, with friends, with the elite,
with intellectuals.
And the winding roads through
the city of gold
are filled with the fat of ourselves.
It tastes sweet, only for a moment.
We are desert people,
really.

And I run.
And I run.
I get a cramp in one side
and a cramp in the other,
and my arms escape me
as from carressing the
pain away.

Oh soul, speak to me.
Oh soul, find your home.
Oh soul, set your eyes on — nothing.

Set your eyes on me. But not me.

Grace comes to me,
and I doze off to sleep
where I meet you and we speak.
You are clothed in white,
and I feel your want
and I reach out to touch your hand,
transparent and vibrating.

I awaken in the deepest part of the sea.
I can breathe underwater.
My soul cries out,
“Those are the shoes that fit!”
But my ankles are like wooden pegs
and I cannot bend them
to reach my feet inside.

The waves call out to me,
roaring in a deep, low voice,
“Get out, get out,
we won’t give you our ocean!”

And I find, somehow,
I never saw it coming,
I never felt a thing,
myself standing in shallow water,
surrounded by comfort,
again.

And people are patting me on
the back and smiling so white,
carressing my hair and
calling me “human.”

And I slowly turn like a ball,
filled with confetti,
rolling and rolling,
colorful for everyone to see.

Until,
I feel
the pinch again.
And your want is what I want.

And your desire is for me,
like a fish in water.
It’s been too long, you say.
“I will be your hiding place.”

And you breathe water
into my mouth
that is
from a well in paradise.
I am yours.

Stephanie Lorentzen-Jordan