Off the Couch

As a child, I fell off the family couch
Onto a tossing sea
With my younger brother,
And we rolled as if drowning
Until my dad spoke
And, across the carpet waves
We pattered off to bed.

My Father,
I had fallen off the analyst's couch
Into the tempest of my own creation,
Crashing against the rocks of vanity
Until You spoke,
And made me walk on water
Toward my night of rest.