Diving Lessons
A poem celebrating the beauty and freedom of diving in the sea.
This poem is part of the NaPoWriMo 2025 challenge to write a poem a day in April. This is the prompt for April 22.
In her poem, Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons, Diane Wakoski is far more grateful than I ever managed to be, describing the act of playing as a “relief” from loneliness and worry, and as enlarging her life with something beautiful. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something you’ve done – whether it’s music lessons, or playing soccer, crocheting, or fishing, or learning how to change a tire – that gave you a similar kind of satisfaction, and perhaps still does.
Just before plunging, I stood on a rock’s edge, my world colored shimmering blue, a vast canvas stretching beneath me, inviting yet intimidating, as whispers of doubt circled like gulls overhead. I took a breath, salty air filling my lungs, my heart thrumming in sync with undulating waves, the sun, a warm embrace on my back, promising freedom. With a leap, I surrendered to gravity, my body slicing through air, a fleeting moment of weightlessness, exhilaration of letting go; my body parting the sea, as it hummed a watery lullaby, cradling me, a sanctuary from a noisy world. Submerged, I floated, weightless thoughts drifting like bubbles, worries that once anchored me, dissolving in the sea’s cool embrace. Here, I was no longer just a girl but a mer-creature, untethered, alive, each dive building trust— in myself, in the water, in the beauty of surrender. Emerging from the depths, sucking in air, I surfaced with a smile, the sun’s rays sparkling like a million stars, grateful for the lessons, for the thrill of diving, for the joy in renewal.
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