Currents That Refuse Containment (Rough Draft)

Human beings are sixty to seventy percent water.

Water moves in ways no map can predict,

slipping through form, refusing the stillness demanded by borders.

It is never only one thing neither calm nor chaos,

neither male nor female, but the endless space between.

It mirrors the moon, yet holds its own gravity.

It becomes what it touches and in each shape, it remains itself.

Yet I, something made deeply of these elements

Am somehow bound by constrictions.

Told to flow in straight lines when my nature is a tide.

I am both the quiet lagoon and the riptide,

the soft drip from a cave’s dark lip,

and the swell that unthreads continents.

You ask us to go against our nature, our true form

and wonder why we dry up under the heat

or rot in the stillness becoming anaerobic and toxic

The allowance of fluidity is integral to our survival

You lie in the sand and find peace in crash of the waves,

of the very thing that gives and destroys life.

You understand the concept of fluidity

and you learn that it is unpredictable and uncontrolled

And within it you find beauty.

In us you must do the same.

You cannot control the push and pull of our orientation

You cannot contain or box in our flow.

Over time the constant crash of the waves will destroy any barrier

And when the dam bursts creating a loud unmistakable roar

and as I escape your containment and bounds

I only hope you will find peace in the sound it creates.