Un-borne at Sea

I do not envy you your task.
You stare dumbly at the lots
which were cast
all this morning as the lightning
ignited the waters until each wave
was cast as a wild flame, carrying
in its crest the nightmare
each of us could not forget since
childhood.

The lots named me. You see, I
am a prophet and not the traveler
I seemed. I am part of a Story
I cannot escape. As far as I could
tell, there were only two endings: in
one I am dead, in the other I wish
I had died. So you see, this is the
same story. You bear no guilt. I have
only come to the edge of the grave

I left behind. Lift me now, as a
mother lifts a child; my legs cannot
hold me for this journey, I need your help.
Your face, ashen, grey, dripping
and full of fear, will be the one to drop me
from this world, just as my mother's was
bright, joyful, and full of faith as she
welcomed me, lifting me to the light.

You have nothing to worry about.
Drop me, watch me, I will fall as swiftly as a small stone.
You will not hear me hit the water
but the thunderclap from one end of the sky to the other
will declare my escape is at an end.
You will hold your breath as the water becomes
as smooth as a mirror,
and I will let mine go
as death becomes a second womb.