Sailor

By Cliff Lake

 

Sailor

 

I run through my emotions as a ship in a hurricane,

Blown on winds bought with my trust.

Sailing seas of passion squandered in familiar port,

I am ungrounded.

 

Gulls screech above and around me;

Their petty screams grate temporary woe.

Pitching and yawing my way through each day,

Nights storm blackly.

 

Rest is come from busy distraction-

Idleness rocks this vessel in a prisoned tempest.

The mind and the heart wrangle in furious opposition,

I am cycloned.

 

The sky above is the wrack and wreck of karma unabated,

I am and have been my own cause.

The sea below is contemptuous of travel.

I sail on.

 

Cliff Lake 12/26/2014

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2014

Location: Dalton, MA, USA

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