The Sailing ‘Soul’

The Sailing ‘Soul’

the winds 
swept the sea.

White coats
curl between
blue sheets
mirroring the sky—
its reflection.

A furrowed
THIS I found
myself to be.

Here, it mattered
not—the tempest.
Becoming a sail, was I,
in this encounter.

THIS my soul

Moving east 
then west…
I held a moment
to the south.

It was only when
the dazzling curtained sail opened,
clutched within the grips
of true North,
that I spread myself.

Hours passed
as minutes glided,

away the time’s
unknown hours.

In the inner chamber
of my being,
the helm
was at rest

allowing my soul
—a sail—
to find its way.


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