I want to live like a tree
rooted in the soil
standing in a grove
breathing sun and moon and sky
but the deeper I send my roots
and the higher I spread my branches
the more restless I feel.
Restless
like an October wind
howling wet through dying leaves.
Restless
like a raging fire
leaping through moonlight brush.
Restless
like a rolling river
finding its way to the ocean.
I look into the eyes
of every human I can find
and I see a shadow beneath the surface.
Beneath the dull grey reflection
of TV static and smoggy skies
I see a submerged shape stirring
in the deepest of waters.
The water’s face is cold
and the view is cluttered with algae
but I catch a glimpse of motion
at the edge of the sunken shadows
where moonlight fades into midnight
and no one else can see
what lies dreaming
in the dark.
Other people gasp and run
at the sight of such shifting shades
but in my feverish fit of restlessness
I dive into the deep
to pursue them.
Each pool seems so shallow
when I stand by the shore on the surface.
But when I delve into the depths
I discover crystalline caverns
criss-crossed with coursing currents
like muddy clay veins
speckled with diamonds.
channeling the blood of the Earth.
Here in the deep
thought becomes flesh.
Every hope, every dream
every fear, every pain
swims these waters
with the silken skin
and shimmering eyes of a mermaid
or the stinging tentacles
and gleaming teeth of a monster.
Now that I’ve seen this world
there’s no turning back.
Even in the simplest of moments
when I’m walking in silence
or sitting in a room
where no one is speaking
I see sunken shades stirring
just beneath the surface.
Even when I close my eyes
I can still feel them
writhing in forgotten caves
some struggling to the surface
while others recoil from the light
always locked in mortal combat
unseen by most
deciding the fates
of all who fear to tread
their icy waters.
Life on the surface
seems shallow and suffocating
now that I’ve swum the depths
and seen the sights
of another world.
Slumbering sea serpents
and harrowed heroes
stir beneath our feet
awakened by every sight
every sound
every touch
that stirs the slightest sentiment
within us.
I see such stagnation on the surface
and yet I know that in the depths
in each of these moments
something stirs in silence.
I feel it stirring
and I feel restless
always restless
in a world where
the only creatures that truly stir
have been chased into the shadows.
Sometimes, on the surface
even my own face falls cold and stagnant
like the faces of so many ponds
that surround me.
But deep in my own waters
I feel a colossal creature
stirring and churning and burning
in response to the calls of others
and the fires of its own fever.
And I am left forever restless
until the shades silently stirring
in the crystalline caverns of the Earth
break through the surface
so that the flesh of our dreams
may sing for the sun
and dance for the moon
and breathe the fresh air
of freedom.
