Flood

We were born of ocean;

bred from the ocean waves,

a deep, primal motion,

like heartbeats as it breathes.

We've watched the ocean waves

lift in the moon's slow pull,

like heartbeats as it breathes

to shape each ocean swell.

Held in the moon's slow pull

we watched the sky bring rains,

and sensed an ocean swell

in rivers coursed like veins.

We watched the sky bring rains;

the languid water stretched,

swelling the river veins.

We built new walls and watched.

And still the water stretched;

we formed long chains of hands,

extending walls. We watched:

The river breached the dams.

Linked in chains of hands,

we saw our neighbors' eyes.

As water breached the dams

we measured out the days.

We saw our neighbors' eyes

pay the water's ransom,

and tallied up the days

with losses one by one.

Eyes made salt in ransom,

neighbor bent with neighbor,

through losses one by one,

to a common labor.

Neighbor turned with neighbor

a slow primal motion,

held in common labor,

like swells in an ocean,

a slow primal motion

against the water's gain,

heartbeats in an ocean,

their genesis in rain.