We Are But Visitors Here

A poem
by Chris Hibbard
January 1, 2015

We Are But Visitors Here

Fishes fly though the waters
While swimming birds splash in the sea

Land-bound, we envy the otters
At home in a way we’ll never be

We look through the glass
We feel through the glove

Wrapped in our neoprene shells
Riding the waves on our vessels above

Hope rises and falls with every swell
Drawn to the ocean, called by the deep

The song of the sirens we feel
Born of mud, it is land that we keep

Yet we return to the water to heal
Weightless we glide in the ocean’s embrace

We can soar in the blue without fear
Soothed by the oneness we feel in this place

Rising we breathe, our lungs full at last
A return to the soil of our birth

But all things that live and those that have passed
were born of the waters of earth

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~ by Chris Hibbard on January 1, 2015.

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