Surfacing the Depths -- JD Kruger

The deepest fish, is but the whale,
From below great depths, it ascends its tale,
And as the pull of waves draw near,
The surest dolphins come to waters clear.
And fish that swim closer to the shore,
Are caught by fishers for their chore.
But, in my skins, and scuba suit
I move from great depths, to catch some loot.
It seems from youth, that I was deep,
Back then, it was not that I was cheap,
But, that I was sunk so deep in thought,
Nor man nor god could disturb my lot.
And, as I grow old, the diver surfaces,
And in his actions he replaces,
What once was mystical became divine communion,
And so we became superficial in our reuninion.
And, as I sickened of the shallow waters,
Where men and women playfully evict their doubters,
I become a surface dweller myself,
And now this cloying game must resurface wealth,
For what was deep, now becomes shallow,
What was full, now becomes hollow,
What was festive is now fallow,
And where winds were calm, now they bellow.
The time, is now, I wade on beach,
I roll my trousers, and beseech,
The mermaids to come from their lair,
So, I bid them to my humble care.
And, now, a shore man, with sand on feet,
It is the shallow, whom I meet,
And, no more wizened, I declare,
On beaches, and rock, this is what I swear.
No, more to swim, beneath deep ocean,
No more to bide by subconscious motion,
But, walk as man upon the earth,
No loftier plan, for what it’s worth,
I am the atlas, holding down the ground,
I try not to make an unconscious sound,
Or, image that shall drive me blind,
Or, thought that takes me in the mind,
But, if you are so there inclined,
I may leave my deep sea searches behind,
Not, to explore the collective want,
Nor, to explore the graveyard haunt,
And as superficial as the men today,
It is only competitive sport, I play,
No need but for action, in the garden,
No need for emotion, as I harden,
On the surface, I walk, on waves, as Jesus before,
Not that he saves, but, keeps above the roar,
And soon, the man is clothed again,
Soon, he plays the games of men,
For, society is of the surface, and moves at speeds,
That, is society that this man heeds, 
and goes with fashions of the day,
if it’s a mind that flows, is what wants to play,
for if I to go away, is what they want,
I will leave this necromancing haunt,
Then, I will abnegate my mission,
I will move without indecision,
And resurface, and out the thought of plenty,
Express the mind, that more than twenty
Thousand sages educated,
It was not this child that was so hated,
But, the society, that brought him back to earth,
So, now, he must show them what his teacher’s worth.
The moral is, don’t dive so deep,
Make wishes great, and hopes so steep,
But, feet pressing firmly in the sand,
A superficial life, is what is planned.
For that, you will be more than manned,
For that, I will give you just a hand.
A deep-sea diver, now a man of earth,
For now, that is all, that he is worth.

-- JD Kruger, GLP4.