Life without a paddle
Four times the rain, sudden as a knock.
Without telling anyone the elements and the animals have made me their bride.
Already this morning is darker than yesterday.
Somewhere in my body, there must be a bone I could use as a paddle.
Each day, I wake and who am I, in relation to you?
And You?
Life without a paddle, love troubles, then there’s that hole:
water rises as it will.
If this is god, I can’t look.
If this is god, struggle is a form of praise.