True Love of Coffee

It was tragic, the serenity of the crystal blue water
broken by chaotic waves of life trying to survive
The silence of november’s leaves fluttering about
as the calm intent of nature signaled the coming storm.

It was perfect in everybreath-taking, beautiful way…
but it became horrific. Deadly enough that I cried,
not knowing if the casual stroll would be defining of my life
or of someone elses.

I heard the screaming, the silence broken as if so fragile
yet loud enough to draw my vision across the lake
and I became witness, in disbelieving horror,
to a small child, near a turned boat, struggling for life.

My mind became lost, confused in the crisis of panic
of knowing that my actions, would define or destroy everything.
I ran quickly to the dock, the boards creaking under my passage
and everything vanished as I dove headfirst into the water.

The water was so cold, yet my heart failed to stop beating,
it shocked me into moving quickly, faster, harder
as I choked down the pain of my muscles cramping,
and pushed my body to either move forward or break.

My ears lost the sound of the child’s muffled struggle,
and my mind searched for hope trying to believe they were not gone.
The water became calm, except for my desperate race
as I reached the boat, without a child to be found.

I couldn’t feel my leg, or didn’t want to,
the pain jabbing up into my chest from the icy water
yet I took a breath, deep into my soul
and prayed my spirit was strong enough as I dove under.

Five feet, ten, twenty…
I went as deep as I could, touching the soot of the lake bed below.
I tried, to keep hope, as I surfaced for breath,
to hold on just a minute longer, as I tried again to choke down the pain.

One more breath, I could do one more
if not for my life, for the child.
I couldn’t give up on someone so young,
so desperate that I could feel it in my soul.

I took my hope, prayed to someone up above
and thought to myself; no one should ever be left alone.
With that belief, I gasped for enough strength
as I forced myself to dive again, hoping, no, still praying.

That I wouldn’t be the one who left this child be gone
I searched, until I lost my breath, and water poured into my lungs
forcing me to the top, denying my spirit what I was searching for
not realizing my hand was grasping so tightly the hand I found in darkness.

I tried, with the last effort I had,
to push the coughing child onto the upturn boat, never realizing
that my strength was gone, the child was safe
yet I hadn’t saved enough to save myself.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 27th, 2006 at 8:03 pm and is filed under Coffee - Volume Two, Survival. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.