I am surprised I made it this long
without hitting the ice above.
Submerged so deep
with no hope of a breath.
No cracks to encourage me
to bust through, or try.
Maybe I grew a capacity
while I was drowning.
Maybe I can breathe differently now,
so I don’t need to float up,
pressed against the endless cold
as if it will bring me closer to life.
For I am become a creature of the sea,
and there is livingness everywhere I look,
speaking a language I comprehend
somehow, beckoning me to release
my human sheathe at last,
to be a dark, sleek thing,
at home in the deep
until the ice thaws.
Copyright © 2021, S. Naify