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
