They have travelled
so far already,
battered bodies
fighting current
pushing upriver
when life calls them home
– some of them sooner than average,
jacks who take one for the team,
a dance with diversity.
No head or arms
to distance them
from thrust,
their only hope of rising
is full-bodied leap.
Obstacles crafted
to ease their journey,
each small barrier
unknowably tall,
each landing a pause
for more courage.
I can only assume
that salmon have no room
for despair,
no reservoir of doubt
or futile view;
their journey
full of ardour
propels them,
a bellyful of yearning
providing alignment.
Give me the wise blindness
of immersion,
a wild commitment
to my own arduous thrashing,
the freedom
to surrender into suffering
my own sweet homecoming.