If ever I came like an eel from the sea,
translucent and shimmering, tossed on the foam,
and learning again what it means to be me,
then let me remember the place I called home.
If ever I struggle to carve out my way,
to grow gills for freshwater, and muscles for mud,
to thrust myself farther upstream and astray,
then let me not lose the deep call in my blood.
And if, after years lurking deep in a pond,
constrained to the dark and the wet and the weeds,
I chance to recall the far place I was spawned,
O let me then follow my heart where it leads.
And then if I find my way back through the bourne
to choke on the salt in the wide open sea,
and if my old self I am tempted to mourn,
then grant me a glimpse of where I’m meant to be.
For I’ll follow the call that I hear in my soul,
though the miles before me are many and wide,
till at last I approach the great Sea of my goal,
and there, in my final and true Self, abide.
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