Poem for a time

The sun shines softly and sweetly through the trees i see,

but why does it mock me so, laughing and shining as if it had no other place to be?

I tire of it, it does not fit me today, it is to bright to happy to lovely for me today.

Reality I no longer understand, I feel it slipping away from me, slowly and in pieces.

I find myself saying nice things, smiling at times, making polite conversation.

But where am I? I can't find myself any longer- I am not outside dancing in the sun, I am not inside reading a book, I am not in my head or in my heart or any other place that could be found in this universe.  

If I could be in any place right now and was not in the place of no-where, I would be drowning, slowly and surely out at sea. 

I would look above me on my back and see the bald eagles, for a time they would fly and dip as they always do, in their gentle but asynchronous orbs, sometimes following a mate, sometimes with a fish, swooping and diving, laughing and calling. They would not see me or care that I was invading the ocean space.

About the time the water started to feel like ice I would stop to feel at all. I would cease to be in a no-place, a gray zone, a place of white noise. 

The cold would encompass me and I would begin to feel numb.  But soon there would be no feeling at all and this is the place I long for. 

Soon the iciness of the water would cease my futile movement, but more importantly it would cease my futile thought. 

I treasure the thought of the thoughts ebbing away, bit by bit, slowly and surely, as the life ebbed from my limbs. The thoughts and the life so intimately tied together, so inseperable yet still binding me, for I am not gone yet.

Not yet. And then, and then there would be a moment. A moment after the thoughts and before the end or perhaps the beginning. A moment of, what? The thoughts are already gone what could this moment be? This moment free of thoughts, this moment free of pain, of worry of stress and fear, a moment of icy fragility, a long moment or short? No matter, a moment without thought.

Now the water would surround me, the lungs fill up, the sinking begins, there is no more. 

And now I see myself from an distance, the bald eagles, once so carefree, they descend.

Swooping and calling from the sky, they drop into the icy plummeting waves. 

They shout and call to each other now, for suddenly there is food for them.

I am watching from a distance as I am being devoured. It is a strange thing but a neccesary one, I needed to stop myself, they needed to have a meal.  So life goes on, for some of us.