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Meditations

Alan Altany

De Profundis

In my ancient days
I drowned many times
writing notes from underwater,
captive in a whirlpool,
like a fallen autumn leaf
caught in my own tornado;
can you hear the disintegration
of my mind & sloth of my soul?
My corpse kept reappearing
from the dark deep below
with each of my silent howls,
bloated with a desperation,
about to finally sink into itself
and despair of breathing again;
slowly, a strange buoyancy
spiraled around me, raising
me into a warm wind heading
towards a far shore, a sacred
thermal bearing all my dead
weight all the way to home
where I never had ever been;
I have not drowned much
since those ancient times
even though an occasionally
profound rogue wave takes
me downward in my drama
until the eccentric buoyancy
and breathing return again.

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