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Lifesaving
Those arms stretching toward you helplessly, Beating the waves and clutching the air, Want to hang on, they want to hold you close, Closer forever, not out of love But fear of losing a way of life by drowning. No matter how reassuringly you say To listen and trust you, to relax and give in To the easy water lifting you together, That mind staring at you and at nothing Can't understand why it should stop screaming. One hand is suddenly seizing you, half-strangling, And one wild crook of an arm is locking Around your head, and that mind is losing its mind. Not losing yours, you do what the water Around you has done already: you give way. You go away from the light and air, you settle Downward as if to end the world Of the head and heart, taking the other with you As far down as that body will follow Into the darkness, and it lets you go. It rises again to the uncertain surface, No longer thrashing, no longer grappling Or flailing, out of its wits, but desperately calm. It believes you now. It's lying still While your palm is lifting it gently, almost weightless, The face aimed at the sky, the mind once more Seeing and listening, remembering To believe its body can float as well as yours, That its arms and legs can begin to move Surely with yours toward the land of the living.