landlocked

yesterday I delivered a cake to Simm's Landing

a seafood restaurant that looks like a wharf

complete with pilings and ropes

and an invitation to drop anchor and rest

until the storms blow over

something plucked from the coast

and dropped on top of a hill

overlooking the highway and the mountains

and I thought

what is this doing here?

what am I doing here?

Why am I thousands of miles and millions of years

from the ocean

or a wide rolling river
or a lake too big to see across or walk around in an hour

So far from warm gentle soaking rains that last for days

So far from the sea

No surf to rock me

To bring me home to myself

No waves to wash over me

No waves to ride

That exhilarating rush when the power of water catches the surf board

that sensation that wipes out everything

nothing but the wave, the board, the ride

demanding total surrender to the moment

it is lost to me

what am I doing

what am I waiting for

I feel time going by

and I feel myself not really present

not really living

I feel stuck

parched and landlocked

my anchor dropped in an arid landscape

out of my element

far from home