Poetry Month: Day Eighteen

A quote journal entry. I remember my dad teaching my brother and I how to float in a hotel pool once upon a family vacation long ago. He told us of swimming long distances as a Boy Scout and that, should we ever need to swim for miles and miles, the secret was in knowing how to float and rest along the way.

He went on to teach us that this same method can be applied in life's cold sea. We learned that survival comes not by thrashing aimlessly about but with faith that we are held and carried along.









Philip Booth 






Lie back, daughter, let your head


be tipped back in the cup of my hand.



Gently, and I will hold you. Spread



your arms wide, lie out on the stream



and look high at the gulls. A dead-



man's-float is face down. You will dive



and swim soon enough where this tidewater



ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe



me, when you tire on the long thrash



to your island, lie up, and survive.



As you float now, where I held you



and let go, remember when fear



cramps your heart what I told you:



lie gently and wide to the light-year



stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.

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