Lethargic

Leave the door open…

surely this foray
into docile distraction
will pass…

Sun is promising
a re-emergence,
stirs an inclination

I may find purpose, yet…
harness these sultry thoughts
and venture out that door….

(Image my own)

Adrift

We sail, determined,
and yet, the destination
is not of our choosing,
charted by memories
and the inadequacy
of words, language
faltering in foreign
depths.

We are islands,
formed out of
convenience

afraid to open
our foundational hatch,
face the illicit truth,
unwilling to examine
the precariousness
of our plot,
unable to pay
the price,

prefer the buoyant
arrogance
of pretence,

faith relying on
the ungrounded
swell of the ocean
to rebirth us.

(Inspired by a dream and written to conform to the daily prompts of Fandango:  memory, Ragtag Community: open, and Daily Addictions: convenience.  Thanks all for the fuel.  Photo from personal collection.)