Breath My Only Boundary

A mute and silent prisoner

bound beneath ebony ocean depths
dull obsidian within me
Lips, shackled.
Tongue, tethered.
Cheeks, shame-faced
and waxen. Lack of light,
want of redemption

There is no song here.

Bite my lip, seeking
some sensation. Savor
the copper tang of deprivation
Pennies on my tongue, bitter
Marbles in my mouth, muffle
Anvil on my ankles, leaden
Trauma tangled in my hair
Hope mangled by my fear
Can holiness reach even here?

He says yes.

The sky brightly beckons
Would I dare rise?
I yearn toward yellow
but my fear fetters
The wicked waves
thrust me deeper,
send me tumbling. Yet
I clamor, kick, climb,
for truth is not a tether
Fear-soaked and vice-choked,
I break the surface

Breath now my only boundary,

I confess the bitter briny sea,
the brackish wild depravity
and gulp—honey-sweet—
his mercy
The sun sways daffodil
above me, showers silken
warmth upon me, sparks
worship deep within me

THIS is glory

My lungs and heart
are full to bursting
My mouth, once desert,
no longer thirsting
My first song is surrender

I am free

*the phrase “Breath my only boundary” was inspired by “Breath as a Boundary,” the title of a portrait by Kenturah Davis.