When I am Undone

When it is too much.
When I am overwhelmed, or tired and sad. 
When I am unable, unstable, and undone. 

I go, because it will only take a moment to be okay again. 
I go, and I am:

 

Lying on my back
on a yellow catamaran.

I am in Mexico,
and responsible for only myself, 

(and perhaps for my fellow travelers in practical ways, but I am not holding on to their passports.)

 

I am staring up the mast
to the mainsail
and the clearest blue sky I can ever remember,
as we race the sun to the tip of Baja.

or

My knuckles are white from gripping my husband's
life vest,
as we skim across the waters of Lake Tahoe on a wave rider,
and I am laughing and laughing. And laughing.
 

I am thrown off and flying, and laughing
even as I go under the chilly blue of the lake. 

When I emerge,
he is smiling and circling back for me.