Poem - When The Ocean Howls

The ocean is howling once more. 

And I find myself caught in it.

My hands trembling,

my heart pounding,

struggling to recall which direction is up.

Anxiety doesn’t murmur.

It bellows.

It fills my lungs with salt and uncertainty

and calls it breathing.

Every thought transforms into a wave.

Too tall, too heavy, too swift.

I reach for tranquility,

but tranquility is elusive.

It slips right through my grasp

like grains of sand.

The tempest commands, sink.

The tempest commands, stop resisting.

The tempest commands, you’ll never return to the surface.

And then I sense it.

A pull at my chest.

A thread of warmth

in the coldest part of my being.

Hope.

It’s not loud,

but it exists

like the solitary star that refuses to be submerged

no matter how dark the night becomes.

Hope says,

“I understand you’re weary.

I know the water is deep.

But breathe regardless.

Kick regardless.

Reach regardless.”

And I do.

Not with grace.

Not flawlessly.

But I do.

Because hope isn’t a miracle.

It’s strength.

It’s remembrance.

It’s the echo of every moment I claimed I couldn’t

and then did.

It’s what keeps me buoyant

when the storm persists.

And I’ve realized that the ocean can rage as much as it wants,

but I’m designed to rise.

I’m designed to float.

I’m designed to discover light

even when it’s not visible yet.

So yes, I’m still in the water.

The waves continue to crash.

But I am not the sinking vessel.

I am the survivor.

And this life preserver called hope?

It’s not borrowed.

It’s mine.

It’s woven from every heartbeat

that refused to give up.

So let the thunder speak.

Let the waves challenge me.

I’ll confront them.

Breath for breath,

pulse for pulse.

Because I know one truth

stronger than the storm:

I was not created to drown.

To see a video of my spoken word please click the link.

https://youtube.com/shorts/o9Q2csXeaDY?si=ZnUdqIfsnX1d-CnW