My back to the ocean,

photo courtesy Carrie Keohane

I didn’t see them coming.

I just kept getting knocked off my feet

and spun upside down in a salty somersault.

The flat spots grew piles,

The floor oozed grit,

The dishes dried on dirty

and all my efforts were always spent

just trying to get my head back in the air

and keep it up, treading water.

In a herculean effort I would jump

to clean with all my might to stay ahead of the next wave.

It would be beautiful

for a glorious moment,

but by the next day, whump.

Back to normal.

Floors sucking on the dirty clothes,

dust bunnies propagating,

hungry children.

I need a shower.

My head down, I’m drowning again

with my feet sprawling overhead.

I knew I couldn’t keep this up.

Desperate, I felt almost dead.

I was smothered in the life

ironically chosen by myself.

It kept pushing me under

over and over again.

I couldn’t catch the pattern.

I didn’t know about the tide.

My great expectations and reality

would constantly collide.

I had to turn and face the waves.

I had to run out to meet them as they’d come.

I had to plan for the surprises, too.

I simply had to find the sun.

By preparing and maintaining,

though I could not stop the tide,

my life got routinely easier than

going along for that ride.

© 2013 DarEll S. Hoskisson