A poem by Heidi Dischler

Seeing him is like swimming through a tangled

mass of seaweed and murky water, arising to

the surface to see the sky after you had

thought you’d never see it again.

He is like rainwater, cooling the sweltering 

heat on a blistered, burned face.

Seeing him is like a long, deep mouthful of

wine, swirling around in the bloodstream,

relaxing the anxiety that had ultimately set in

after living an uncertain life. 

He is a reality that had, for a long time,

seemed like a dream. 

He had been invisible to me, my eyes trained

only on what I had wanted so that I couldn’t

see what I need. But he’s not invisible to me

anymore. I don’t think he ever will be again.