by Thomas J Camp
We do not know where we go.
We do not know what we will need.
We do not know when we will arrive,
Or what state we may arrive in, once we do.
We are headed somewhere,
Both You and I.
While adrift in the calm.
Maddeningly, we strive,
But alas to no avail.
We lie upon the deck in a becalmed sea,
Dizzy and exhausted,
The fore sail long since blown away,
Our hopes and dreams are nestled in the one jib remaining,
Which we vainly attempted to save
And now refuse to stow.
Yet still, there is a current.
A movement or a tide,
It is a direction to somewhere.
Unable to perceive its strength,
We are swept along
Unconsciously day dreaming.
Becalmed, we are moving still.
Cumulus clouds drifts our way,
A welcoming break to the Sun’s harsh light.
A sprinkle falls and we absorb it thru our skin
And feel as if we are drunk on Life’s eternal spring.
A faint rustle arises in our ears and begins to flap the jib’s loose end.
We listen to the erroneous sound in mysterious thought,
In our bewilderment, we drag ourselves up and fell the breeze brush our face.
“I suggest you tighten that line up a little dear,
And prepare to hang on,
I do not know to whence we head,
But still together we shall go. “
Last updated April 23, 2015