Surface Scripture

Let me slip into my sacred place, where

prophecies spill across tumbling waves.

Who else has read aloud sonnets

from the undersides of waves?

This is poetry in motion

My lips open to whisper

stanzas of grace, but all words are lost.

I am swimming in a vision-

A silent promise land,

Seen only by the drowning- but

believed only by the damned.

With saltwater against my tongue and the

ocean flooding my lungs,

I wonder if…

Perhaps,

This is how sirens seduce deaf men