I am a sojourner
having thinned my soles
’tween the youthful vigor of the warm Pacific
and the cold awakening of the Atlantic,
and I am weathered, fit of wear,
sufficiently rounded to
ply my strides where now I walk
amidst the soothing souls.
All
He hath struck me whimsy to no excess,
suspended me ‘neath sun-starched rainbows,
shod me with laces loose and forever soles,
laid down no spurs, no ties to divert me,
and Trusts me assured when shadows lengthen,
will ease me gentle down the Tracks.
~ ~ ~
Seafaring
I am of the sea,
starched, awash in brine,
battered, dizzy at the helm,
wind-whipped, countenance corroded,
sun-dried, hardened at the edges,
decaying, rough-hewn of the Ages,
replenish, inter me where the tide is High.
~ ~ ~