Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Land ho! The sailor yelled, Land ho!
Stay with the wind. The rocks below.
The harbour's clear and still. Our souls have tired
The sun has set the place on fire.
There is a place to anchor. Just beyond.
Hold steady as she goes. Lower the sails.
Take to the oars good men. Be strong.
No death by drowning we desire.
at May 19, 2015
The fishing boat rises and falls on the turbulent blue-black sea. One moment I see it, riding high. The next it is barely visible...
What's it like to be someone else? To be young, thoughtful, blessed With possibilities, most probable, ready For all that life can o...
My thoughts are elsewhere, moving faster than I, with more grace and determination. The thoughts move in the past where a young man ling...