Did the Poet Die? (short poem)

“Where did the poet go?”

Rolling waves slide above my eyes

And I ask myself, “Has the poet in me died?”

I am not sinking but I am not rising,

Here at home in the dark waters

This is the space where my soul goes to lie

When the clang and clatter of mankind ignites

.

.

When the needs of home consume

When the energy is needed to build empowering things,

this is my panic room

No one else is here

It’s just me and the light from the moon.

I wrote this note and let it rise

So that you and I both know…

this poet did not die.