Shin-deep in surf suds, we looked out to sea,
Beyond the breakers, in the seeming calm,
Where gliding through the waves, effortlessly,
We saw the graceful shimmer of your arm.
To those of us on shore the gesture came
As evidence of what we thought we knew
That living in the water was a game
That any fool could play as well as you.
How fast we moved to rid ourselves of land,
Exhausted by the comfort we found there.
We felt so stifled by its freedom and
So suffocated by surfeit of air.
If solid ground was the domain of thought,
The sea was where it crystallised as text.
Each kick a clause, each stroke a finely-wrought
Enjambment built to usher in the next.
We craved your mastery. Your limpid style,
The ease with which you breast-struck through the deep.
We plunged right in to join you, all the while
Forgetting that the learning curve was steep.
We were engulfed. No firmer terror could
Have seized us as we battled not to sink,
Displaying, as we later understood,
The buoyancy of twenty tonnes of zinc.
Some battled on, but most of us withdrew.
I plucked the seaweed off from round my shin
And raised my eyes once more to look at you:
A world away, still beckoning us in.