A dingy boat in a wild sea,

How am I to sail this boat in such a storm?

There are no passengers to save,

But me.

The storm clouds briefly light the way

But it is not a sight I wish to see

Grey-green ocean meeting diseased clouds,

Ready to drown me in its briny depths.

All I have is my oar;

A little paddle.

My raincoat is of no use now,

How can it be when waves as tall as the world crash down

Upon my very being.

But all hope is not lost,

– it never could be –

As your light shows the way.

The waves subside,

But not completely

It is my mind that holds the truth,

I am rowing to you my love,

Just as you call and come to me.

Blistered hands would not be enough to stop these arms,

For I know

You would be the one

To treat

And wrap my worn-down palms,

When we come together.

The shore is in sight, as it always has been,

No waves distract me now

I am coming my love,

The land is where you are,

And this is where we’ll be.


Transcendental Time

The world is a temporal place,

Buildings are built to crumble and fall

As their once great magnificence is lost to the wind.

Plants and trees wither away,

Once painted masterpieces burn in great fires,

Poems are lost and made wet in the rain.

What is to say that life follows suit?

We live and we die,

That’s it they say.

In the moment I say just three words to you,

Mi Anita,

The drain of time is plugged.

The emotion of love is not held to minutes

Or seconds,

Not to hands on a clock

It has happened, and for this,

It shall always be.