The Adventurer

Pushing off

from my center.

Setting out

to find you.

The call to adventure

is leaving everything

behind you,

or so the song says.


Growing sicker in the middle.

Making no progress,

just accommodations,

well intentioned concessions.

Letting the enemy in,

falling victim to the parasite.


Something in the water that we drink,

something in the air we breathe,

disseminate this woeful ineffective;

spread it like a strain,

consummate infection.


I am moving on.

Caution is the wind.

Lift my paddles up

and go where I am taken.

So sick of struggling

against the tide,

maybe I’ll just see

how it goes.


Back to the source of it,

dragging me out,

pushing me on

to the next thing.

I have formed myself a weapon.

I have the protection,

so I am not afraid.


Death is coming,

of this I’m certain.

Only have a blade

to make my case.

Carve my name

in a state of waking.

Make it safer

than when I came.


Bid me,

make it so.

The current has me, now.

I’m on my way,

even though,

I am not ready.

Even though I’m afraid.

I know adventure lies

on the other side

of safety.



HG – 2020

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