We drown

We drown in words, buffeted, turned about
by narrative, tides and currents combined 
or opposed, seeking solid ground without
hope of rescue, and yet are not resigned.

We are buoyed by stories -- towed, in truth,

over waves of words -- and struggle to peer

down through them to the ragged and uncouth

shards of the real, rising but never clear.

We pray that lives like boats of paper float

on a sea of meaning, certain and sure,
fluttering sails of text; and chant by rote

the words we've drunk -- swallowed -- choked on -- endured.

We ache beneath the waves to understand:
a wordless wanting, out of sight of land.