Water has a skin,
a membrane thick enough
for gods to walk on
but delicate and cold as cloud hide.
To enter the world of water,
to swap terra firma for the enveloping mystery,
you must break the skin,
puncture and plummet and
be lost to all you knew.
Change is always thus—
to break, to wound, to relinquish control
in a bold dive of faith,
to fall and yet feel exalted,
to stop one’s breath and yet feel alive,
to lose one’s footing and yet gain ground.
A death, a baptism, a cleansing, a refreshing,
the faith to step out of the boat and sink.