Mastering the ease to bear the unease

I cannot drown
in my sorrow,
shallow as they seem
I merely paddle through
with heavy feet
often caught in sticky moss
spreading itself at the bottom
of this static, inert, dark, fluid
that floats within the confines
of my vision.

I blink and blink again
to clear the dampness
blurring my view
but the drops simply cling
to the corner
holding their turf,
I give up!

I see thus, the dry sun
with moist vision
foggy and wrapped
in the cloak
of my perception.

No wonder then
even on coarse concrete
when I manage to set foot
the puddle of sticky soot
is all that is left
as footprint...

The stink follows me
I carry my shallow pool within
not deep enough to drown,
nor steep enough to be washed away.
What else then can one do
but master the ease
of living in unease!