Punished by the waves
the pushing the pulling…
the surfer is a bulb
burned out on the neon sign
that says “Jesus Saves.”
The only shelter is a shelf
of rock covered by a thin
layer of sand near the shore.
He slams faith-first into
the unseen unyielding floor.
Hard to tell the difference
between hell and his story;
unconsciousness is not
unfamiliar territory.
Another crest sends shards
from his board across
the damp empty beach
splinters from a cross:
salvation slightly
out of reach.
Like saltwater
in dry lungs,
the truth seems clean and cool
before it fills and kills.
A crab taps Braille
on the sand right by his head…
a sad, slight epitaph.
This broken bridge
that spans the space
between land and sea
is the last thing
he will never understand
and the truth
has finally
set him free.
jbh 10.22.2012
