Swimming to Blueberry

It’s there ahead of you,
that target,
the one you know
you must reach
no matter what.
And the water is so cold,
your heart beats fast
just to stay warm,
and the waves wash over
into your ears and nose,
bitter cold in your mouth,
and the only part that’s warm
are your arms, pushing, pumping,
and your legs,
till you can’t feel your hands,
your muscles ache and burn,
and still you push ahead,
stroke by
stroke,
by stroke,
looking for that target as you come up for air,
determined to get there
no matter what.

What?
What for?
Does it really matter?
No matter.
No matter at all.

And the water turns warm,
as you flip over
onto your back,
and you can see the birds flying,
hear geese calling,
feel gentle breezes,
the sun warming your face,
the taste of blueberries
on your tongue.