Swimming Lessons
I took a poetry class
for the first time
when I was 21
in my last year of college.
And it felt
like the first time I swam
when I was seven
on the last day of swim class.
Up until then
I had refused to jump in.
Instead I sat
on the waters edge
and admired my reflection
as rays from the summer sun beat down
on my back like drums
and my toes played the same rhythm
on the waters surface.
I made circles that grew larger and larger
until they were big enough
to hug the other kids
with their wide smiles
while I sat
on the side
and envied my reflection.
As the sky swallowed the time
and the other kids left
one by one
I put my clothes on
and decided to jump
into the water below.
I was tumbling
I was sinking
I was drowning
I was living
I was swimming
I was learning
I was writing
I was happy
Poetry taught me that it is alright
to be vulnerable
and to embrace your emotions
instead of burying them.
It taught me that it’s alright
to feel like a child
at a time when we’re supposed to grow up.
It has been the voice
between light and dark
giving me the courage to try new things
and never give up.
Poetry taught me to accept myself
and to set goals that are so high
it might feel like others can’t see them.
And not to worry if they can’t
because they will
when you achieve them.
Poetry taught me something that no other class
has ever done.
It taught me both the importance
of your mental and emotional health
and a way to maintain them.