The Bath
I’m sitting in the bath, listening to a poem about love.

My hard heart melts into an ocean beneath
Sweat drips from my brow to join the salt below
Indistinguishable from the tears that become it

When the poem is finished

I motion for a different distraction
Falling prey to the power of swipe and scroll,
So seductive and alluring of late

But something stops me – another power

I listen instead to the rhythm in my chest
As its drumming fades to weeping
And an overflowing of love

Surrendering, it takes me deep, into This

The body rides the waves
The mind keeps time with tears
And the simple rhythm of these words

takes me. Holds me

Lays me softly to rest in the warm depths
Of This, in all its imperfect perfection
The immeasurable power of poetry

To reveal what is always here, just beneath the surface