The spray at the bow
of the ship freshens my face
on this day of sailing into a wind
that has no trace of regret
but lifts me up:
as a bouy in the night
with a fuse for light
charged by the sun-
eternally grateful
for a way to find my way
even when the hull is damaged
and there are no stars
to guide me home.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment