Cork

The image 

That comes to mind

Is a piece of wood

Flung into water

It is sinking

As most things will

In water

But then,

It is wood

Not stone

It's nature 

Is not to sink

It is to float

And so it will

It is just

A matter of time

So is life

And I wait

Wait wait

Deep in the depths of sinking

For the bounce to come back

For the moment of floating

When I break the surface 

And take deep lungfuls of air

And breathe 

And float along lazily 

I wait 

But the wait 

Too heavy to shake off

And I sink

Struggle to float

And sink again