lost little boat

folded from paper and creased to perfection

You are set free

You head down gutters and little creeks

With purpose, plans and peace

your course molded by debris

guided by gravity

drawn by design’s intent.



But once you reach those open waters

and guidance seems to fade

You’re broken, soaked and weak.

With no oarsmen or current

Your future is bleak.

The wind a deterrent.

It pushes you there and to hither

Your spirit is dim

and your vision has withered

Your life now lacks drive

for pursuit and passion



Lost at sea with no land in sight

Your hope is at dusk

Soon to be night.

awake.

your lifeless body on the soft sandy shore.

the silence deafens

and the darkness fights

look up to the heavens

grasp the light.