sailing

Little boy, little girl,
Seemingly with a will of their own.
From tranquil calm to deadly uproar,
No one can fathom the changing depths.

We may try to harness the power,
But there’s no drop of doubt,
No wave of illusion,
As to where the real might flows.

The endlessness of eternity
Destroys nothing but washes out everything.
In the vast array of time,
Nothing really matters.

Love is an ill-wrought memory.
Life is a fluid relative,
Constantly sending you onward.
Never here, always there.

The Earth is still all but covered,
And the voyage has just begun.
Pull the anchor, hoist the mainsail!
Let us find the other shore.

(8.8.6)

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