at the end of my tether


At the end of my tether I go rowing –
in the middle of the lake lifting my oars
to drift amongst morning wave-glints
that slap against the bow
like a heart murmur.

 At the end of my tether I find you,
weary moon, setting behind Muizenberg
hiding from the rising sun
as clouds spill over the mountain spine
forecasting rain.

 At the end of my tether I find myself
connected – secured by multiple tethers
to the web of all that is –
to hunting tern, barking dog,
trainload of commuters.

 At the end of my tether I find a mystery
that each of us lies at a centre of this web
gifting our unique perspectives,
creating infinite constellations
of intimacy and solidarity.

 At the end of my tether, I find I belong.


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