Depths: A Prose by Collette Kristevski

I’ve heard/that 95% of the world’s oceans are still unexplored;/that some parts of the Amazon and Antarctic/are still left untouched./It seems we have barely embraced/the complexities and depths of our immense galaxy./Many still believe we never actually landed on the moon,/ and when I consider how clumsy people can be when orbiting their own souls/I consider that maybe the conspirators are correct./I sometimes imagine that those who probe the depths of the massive universe/choose to cope with the mysteries/by living in a state of perpetual surprise./We are always banging up against wonder/and apologizing for our graceless feet./But I imagine wonder wishes we would just stay/and dance with her for a little while longer./I have never dreamed of deep diving the oceans;/have never much cared to travel to untouched territories/where the word lonely doesn’t need to be defined/because the silence says it all;/and only when I am feeling more daring than usual/do I dream of what is beyond the Earth/and reason about whether the glossy moon is indeed just a hologram./The only depths I know are my own./It seems that I cannot/(and perhaps I refuse to)/walk through life without tripping over an epiphany in the back garden of my own psyche./I, like the explorers of sea and galaxy,/am perpetually surprised/- surprised by myself./I do not dare to explore much else but the sea of my soul and the galaxies within my mind,/for I have found that I need an anchor,/even there at the bottom of my own oceans./I need to be lassoed/in the same way that God lassos the moon and places her where she needs to be,/just in time for the sun to go to her resting place,/and my mind with her.

//Depths, 5/8/2019
//Collette Kristevski

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