Abstract Prose: Safely

You know, there is a great big world out there.
There are a lot of people on this planet.
We have billions of them.
And me and you, well, I suppose it is suffice to say that we are a small portion of something so much bigger.
We are part of this huge project I call Project Earth. 

Just like you or anyone else, I am a life in this world.
I am a thought. I am a series of ideas and feelings.
I am like you. In fact, I am just like you.
I mean, sure, we have our differences.
But we all have a core.
Whether we see this or not, we all have a purpose.

We have our reasons for being the way we are.
There are reasons why we speak the way we do and think the way we think.
The world is a heavily populated place.
And yet, with all the people around us, there are times when the crowds seem to be a lonely place.
We find ourselves in a sense of uncertainty. We are unsure to say the least.

I have seen myself this way; alone in the crowd, I mean.
I’m like a ship at sea just hoping to find the right port.
I am that ship. I have weathered so many storms.
I’ve taken the seas. Or should I say the seas have taken me.
I may have taken damage, but I never sank.

I might have taken on water.
I might have blown off course but as rough as I’ve been tossed, I am still afloat.
And broken, maybe?
But I am still a vessel at sea just hoping that someday, the right winds will blow me home.

They say there is a plan for us all. They say that fate is unavoidable.
However, I believe that our destiny is ever changing.
This means we can change our fate at any given moment.

I am this ship on a journey.
I am the exhale we call the breeze.
I am the great breath that fills my lungs.
I am the dream I’ve had of a long train ride in some unknown European countryside.
I am traveling with a child watching me; studying me as if I am someone strangely significant,
which (of course) I am.

This is me. This is the abstract idea, like a dream state that comes with strange interpretations.
Is this it? Am I on the right path?
Could this be?

This is my soul speaking now.
This is my heart reaching out with hopes to find warmth for the hand. 

I am spiritually aligned with the ocean, which is why I choose this metaphor.
Therefore, I align myself with the seas that swell and sink with an ebb and flow.
I am this; a rhythm, or a breath from the Great Mother, called Mother Earth.
I have set sail in all seas.
I have seen the full moon as it beams down on the calmest nights.
I’ve felt the indentation of the rippling waves to rock me to sleep
(when sleep was available).
And, too –
I have felt the rage of storms as waves crashed across my bow.
Afraid to live and afraid to die.
This is me sometimes.

I am a small child so eager to see the rest of the world.
And yet, I am a traveler. I am a seeker.
I am a man of belief as well as a heart filled with chaos.
I am only searching. Only looking.
I am only hoping for my port to come true.

Dear Mother,
Please give me a place. Give me a sign.
Let the sun come up and let me see this clearly.
Let me face myself or see my reflection and know
(and not be afraid).
Let me understand.
Let me give way.
Allow me to create and not fear that what I’ve built can be destroyed
(or so easily replaced by someone else).

Let me see my true value; therefore, let me understand my worth.
Let me know that this is me, which is this ship that is still moving.
And let me know that this is the reason I have not sunk or gone down.

This is my love.
My love is the wind in my sails.
My love is the reflection I see on the ocean at daybreak.
My love is the warm air and the gentle breeze that blows across the shoreline when the waves come crashing home.
My heart is like birds that fly above the ocean.
My soul is the depth of the unexplored sea.
My mind is the uncertain course of an unknown destination . . .
and my spirit is the need to land ashore and find the place that’s best for me. 

I am here, which is somewhere around mid-life.
I am not old but yet, I am not young either.
This means that figuratively speaking, I need to be mindful of daylight.
I need to get this because twilight can find us at any time.

I saw something the other day.
I saw a picture of a bunch of kids.
They were all playing together. And it was as though I could remember the summers of my youth.
I could remember the run through sprinklers on a hot summer’s day.
I remember the rides on our bicycles throughout the town.
There was a quote above the picture, which read as follows:

“At some point in your childhood,
you and your friends went outside to play together for the last time
and nobody knew it.”

I don’t ever want to grow so old that I fail to see the need to say things like “Ahh,” when fireworks take the sky.
I don’t ever want to grow so old or skeptical that I forget what it feels like to sit by the water.
Or to be on the dock and have my feet dangle in the waters of a mountainside pond.
More to the point, I don’t ever want to grow so old and critical. I don’t ever want to doubt the sun’s return.
Or, forget what it feels like to stand upon the shoreline to watch the waves come crashing home.

Pray for me Mother.
Father Time is always moving. And so am I.
I suppose I just want to move in the right direction
I swear, that’s all.
If the winds are up to you, then all I can do is sail.
So I’ll do what I can to keep my course
and hope to find my home
(safely).

One thought on “Abstract Prose: Safely

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