@ Sugar: It’s hard for me to describe the ‘message’ of this poem. I’m not sure that there really is one particular thing that it’s trying to say… It’s more of a 1st person narrative of an actual event. It doesn’t really have an intent other than to describe the character’s experience.

It’s like running out of air while you’re underwater… maybe while scuba diving. At first you’re completely absorbed in the beauty of the coral reef, the thousands of different species of fish, the interplay between sun and water. You might not wish to be anywhere else but there, at that moment. Suddenly, you find yourself gasping for breath. At first you don’t quite understand why you’re feeling this way until you realize that your cable has gotten snagged on an outcropping of rock and now you start to panic. You’re 60 feet under and can’t swim directly up without risking contracting the bends. You start your slow ascent, painfully aware that you’ll never make it to the top before your lungs begin to take on large amount of water – You lose consciousness on your way up.

You feel yourself cough and sputter furiously and awaken on the deck of the ship you came out here on, the trainer – perhaps you had a crush on them – is hovering above you with a terribly concerned look on his face. Everybody rushes about to make sure that you’re alright and as you come to, you remember the event and are filled with a feeling of uselessness, ineptitude… “the only one who coulda pulled this bonehead move.”

The image of the coral reef in all of it’s glorious beauty will forever remain etched into your mind, but with it too, will be the feeling of the horribleness that came afterwards… the embarrassment of being pulled onto the deck and saved and the burning that will forever remain in your veins. a sensation that comes along in a brushing with death.

Does that make any sense at all? I’m not very good at describing things… i tend to fall back into storytelling mode to try to illustrate a point. i hope that helps.

“Is it worth it?” Maybe 99% of people will interpret this poem differently than me, but I was in (I think) a similar state of mind once where all of the joy and euphoria of life seemed sucked out of me, and I was left to wonder if my optimism and wonder had been “worth it” in the end. I still haven’t answered that question. I’m not even sure the question is ‘worthy’ of answering! What OTHER thing should I be comparing my life to? To OTHER people’s lives? To T.V. lives? Isn’t that what the waking angel was saying?

I’m still re-reading the poem as I write this comment… there is TON of great stuff here:

I ask the sky if I could have
everything I’d wished for.
“Yes,” was the reply, “But are you certain that this is what you’ve been looking for?”

“I gave you kindness and you returned it with despair.”

…the gap in my cheeks that laughter and smiles had previously inhabited.

I step lightly to avoid crushing any more dreams….

I’m probably misinterpreting the whole thing, but that doesn’t really matter, does it? It told a GREAT story that mattered to THIS particular reader!

jpd