And again she scoops air
into her cheeks, buoys her body,
and flops face first into the water,
her limbs, unsyncopated,
thrash with joy. She is all splash
then all snort, and she wretches
and belches the water, then smiles
wide enough for three smiles,
giddy with the wonder of floating—
how just an hour ago she didn’t know
that it would be today
that she would lift
her feet from the bottom and rise
to the water’s top. I wonder
how many pools I’ve been wading in,
waist deep, not knowing
the morning will come
maybe today, when I will stumble
and find all my weight is lifted,
supported, if only I relax.
Ay caramba, but floating is such thick and chewy metaphor regarding faith, trust, letting go, getting outta your own way, letting yourself be uplifted.
“scoops air into her cheeks”, “smiles/wide enough for three smiles”
love the language and imagery
And…”just an hour ago” we had no idea how the ground under our feet was fixin’ to shift, thus giving us a firmer and more assured foundation.
The miracle’s constantly happening.
I especially like the way this one starts, very visual, those verbs so full of verbiage. And you make that transition from her to you very smoothly, very gracefully, like the poet swimmer that you are.