Life’s Compass

What freedom does the ship of living find

When afloat on an ocean of past and future motion,

Where currents of destiny tempt one’s willingness to confront

The ebb and tide of shoreline’s lure,

Beckoning the docking of one’s journey,

The enticement to dropping anchor

Where not accepting life’s fathomless chasm

Makes lost unknown buried treasures of discovery

Merely waiting to be explored?

How plebeian…

To lower the anchor of myopic plight,

Accepting less than tenacity’s risk avails.

How sublime…

Knowing precipitous horizons

Do not exist

In the nature of existence.

For…

To give up the pursuit of the ever-moving sunrise,

Sunset,

Moonset,

Is to oblige the mooring of life,

To cut short the voyage

And it’s rewarding realization,

Never discovering actuality entreats eternal.

Hoisting one’s sails…

Discerning life’s true north

Renders only occasional navigational shifts

Targeting the winds of change,

Trusting life’s compass

To point toward the next iteration

Of empyrean continuance.