This storm will not pass; it will sink this ship,
No doubt lingers, these holes in our boat run deep,
We find ourselves adrift, unable to stay afloat,
In this tempestuous sea, destined to choke,
Yet, don’t let sorrow take hold, don’t frown.

There was a time when calm seas surrounded us,
Under skies both clear and bright, we sailed without a fuss,
But ominous clouds of yesterday loomed, sober and solemn,
From the day we embarked, I tried too earnestly to dispel them.

With all my might, I tried to blow the stormy clouds away,
In hopes that a butterfly in Sri Lanka,
Would be inspired by a universe that kept bringing us back together,
To flutter its wings and cause a tornado, ending the winter threat.

I exhausted my breath to start a gust,
To scatter those clouds, in hope and in trust,
But I never told you of my silent fight,
When you sought warmth on that icy night.

You played with snow, innocence in your hand,
Shaping it into a globe that you wanted to show, unplanned,
The clapping laughter of a care-free child
But when the ice numbed your fingers, you came to me, beguiled.

But I had no breath left, and you believed I did not love you,
Your belief was amiss! In a cold, callous twist,
That was the moment when stumbles began,
Sliding and slipping, we couldn’t withstand,
The snow turned to ice on what should have been solid land.

In my fear, I stepped through and tore a hole in our ship,
You tried to patch it with snow, a desperate grip.
That was when this vessel began to dip,
Into frigid waters, our snow globe would slip.

No matter my efforts from that fateful blow,
My foot remained trapped, deep below,
Allowing the waters to rush in, uncontrolled,
Each gallon freezing over, making us so so cold.

By the end was it a ship, or aged Italian cheese?
Please. Believe I also hated watching our dreams freeze.
What sank us that night was not malevolence
or even the tardiness of a Sri Lankan butterfly’s flight,
But the holes I had made in our shared existence, our plight.

Some insight.
Now, we drift disillusioned, alone in the dark,
Like a chef’s solitary ravioli in a lidded pot.
I know the universal wind will come, true,
But this time it won’t bring you back to me,
It’ll carry you through.

It’s okay. I’m the captain of this ship,
So I will go down with it.
But please let me know you got to land safely.
Even if it’s via smoke signals, from far away.
I promise I won’t drown till I know you are safe.

I will hold on to the splintered sides of this old ship,
Until I know for sure, that even if my lungs now flood with water,
Yours will be filled with air that you can use, to keep your fingers warm.
In case you want to build a new snow globe somewhere else someday.
As for me, “When life gives you lemons, learn how to swim,” they say.













Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash