Treading holy water
Yet to be walked across
Yet to submerge
Hands reaching up
From the limitless depths
Wrapped ’round the ankle
Pulling down hard
But just hanging there
Dragging me down
Or trying to rise?
Both are the same
From what I can surmise
But for me
I think that I like it up here
Where’s there’s plenty of light
And plenty of air
A Life in Poems 