on ocean’s liquid time;
my ego sea-sick with the search,
such flimsy craft I sailed.
And then, my Self, stark silhouette
in vision’s burning gaze,
for one brief moment, till I slipped
horizon’s edge and day.
The winds that blew each brooding sail,
caressed each salt-licked vow,
and spoke shrill words of hope and fear
to drive me on to Now.
But Now was just a moment,
in epic journey’s day,
my Self had soon set sail again –
Pray God she knows the way.