Low Tide

The moon pulls me toward another world,
my stomach's at low tide.
The IVs wash through in waves;
I don't know where I'll wake.
In my wake, there's a wet beach littered with the dead, dying and
abandoned.
Yet these sights, the scattered shells, the sick crab and the beached
seal, bring back glorious memories...
Only at low tide do you realize you're one with the sea, with Brahma, a
lost sheep of the lord, and one of those little ones who believe in
him.
There is no pain; you are receding...and when you die, die well...for
there will be another...high tide.