The irony of being lost at sea

Yet knowing one must sail

To discover where that one should be

 

Such irony is not lost on me

As I launch myself and my ship

In search of what will set me free

 

What is life … if not just to be?

To swing from the branch

Of the old oak tree

To dance in the rain

Embrace the change

So the sun can warm my face

Again

 

Life is but a ball of string

Roll it out

And reel it in

Life is where it all begins

 

I don’t won’t to live with regrets

So I will live like the great egret

I’ll up and out, if I don’t fit!

 

From London smog

To country lanes

I’ve travelled far and wide

Once again I will set sail

Through sea mist

And heavy fog

I will set myself adrift

 

Wanderlust courses through my veins

I possess an innate need to see it all

Such that bemuses those

Who do declare

‘You really are quite strange!’

 

Little do they know

The thoughts that run through

My peculiar brain

 

In a world so big

Where oceans rule

And the vast sky

Is bluest blue

 

Where the trees grow tall

And the grass grows green

Where so much of life

Remains unseen

My heart must follow

And create new dreams

 

Because what scares me most

Is not the unknown

My biggest fear is dying

And becoming a sad

Bitter ghost.

 

C.K.22

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

!