Twisting
Swaying
Changing
Intriguing
Deceiving,
I wade into the pool of life.
My hasty walk is disrupted repeatedly.
Crashing
Sweeping
Tsunamis
Tempests,
The storm swiftly scales to its climax
As I press forward.
I glance at the thought of turning back.
Pushing
Tugging
Pulling
Thrashing,
The tide sweeps me to the unknown.
I wish this tossing and turning of fate to end.
Night
Late,
The sun droops below the horizon.
I reach the mystical island;
I succumb to sleep.
Light
Sun
Warmth,
I awake replenished
The past journey’s fury no where to be found.
The isle is so celestial,
It must be the heaven I was searching for.
1 comment:
Tempests, sway us to wonder "Is it all worth it? Is it easier to turn back?" But they will never be too much for us, long as we know where to put our trust. Excellent, moving poem, Tay Tay.
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