A boat without a tiller,
Adrift on an aimless sea,
My mind in endless wonder,
That was me; that was me.
I’m a sail without a boat.
Aimlessly afloat,
Sailing here and high above,
A wild horse without a rope.
How can I ground myself,
Gather friends around my oar,
To float,
To float my aimless boat,
Once more,
To heaven’s earthly shore.
I knew about the North Star,
But I couldn’t steer,
No voice that told me right from wrong,
A voice I couldn’t hear.
I flayed and floundered,
There, here and about,
Asking the Lord,
“Lord help me out.”
I heard a voice,
I swear on high,
“You have a choice,
Use it wise,
I gave you tools,
To right your boat,
Fix the sail,
Once more to float.”
Ice is nice,
So is Fire,
To quench this thirst,
It takes desire.
So git up off,
Your thronely butt,
Go right what’s wrong,
‘Fore bubbles bursts!
Author’s Note: Comments? Questions? Opinions? Ideas? Requests? Likes? Poetry? What did this poem mean to you personally?
tom tenbrunsel
Poet Laureate of My Domain