Swimming With Dolphins

The leap we take is no small thing
off the sharp steep lava into the slapping sea.
It is a long way down and a long wait
as we gather ourselves respectfully
asking for clear hearts
so that we can swim
with and not at.
It is all I can do to calm myself
arm over arm, my body full of doubt,
the waves are barriers to what we seek to see.

We stop and peer about, everything is churning
and I grab for your hand, it is instinctive
as I am coming apart in the water
and suddenly I breathe in and look down
and they are there, four muscled sleeks
and a baby, an impossibly miniature version
right there, right below us, resting suspended
below our roiling water, one of them regards us
with an eye, and I am weeping, my mask
filling with tears, salt and salt in my mouth.

They visit us for seconds, hours, my hand
so tightly held in yours,
perhaps we come across
as a pod, and it is only
the generous pressure
of your willing skin and bone
that keeps me
from remembering
I cannot breathe the water.

Patricia Fontaine
Williston, VT