Away
In the night.
Her plan to greet the
Day
With land far from sight.
Her plan to greet the
Day
With songs of hope and delight.
On the shore I slept under the
Sway
of tide and moonlight.
When I woke there was no sign in the
Bay
Of what had just gone last night.
We wish powerfully to be gone
Far Away
And yet to remain within sight.
I may have invented a new rhyme scheme there, although all that is new now has been new before, and known.
I might add that all becoming starts under your feet. It cannot start anywhere else. If you have sailed away in your mind, you are lost. Come home, as soon as you can.
Beyond that, I have no idea what my point was. The images and words just came to me, smoking a cigar on my couch, dreaming. As should be obvious, I dream a lot. I spend hours and day sometimes, doing very little. But I do a lot.
Here is a question: am I on a ship, bound for somewhere; waiting for a ship to come take me home; or looking at a ship already in port, which I can board any time I like, for any destination I like?
Being where you are, how you are, is a very hard thing. It takes a lifetime, I think, to even remember to remember that that is the entry and disembarkation point of everything that matters.