swimming

so far from land,
but you can see
the gulls fly
near, and so you
swim harder,
you glide
through the water,
arm after arm,
the legs kicking,
you find your stroke,
your rhythm,
at times you can
only see the wave
you are in,
it's walls are
all that exist,
it seems as if you
will never get
there, exhausted
from the blue cold,
the salt and depth
of your life,
but then
you rise a little
upon a swell
and you can see
the island
up ahead, past
the breakers,
the tops of trees,
the lush grass
that you long for,
a little further,
it's in reach,
almost there.