Explorer

Adventure is never gilded on the fly
From shore the horizon is magic and song
As soon as home is lost behind
Noncommittal dreams flicker ahead
Misery blooms on decaying hope
Blue escape beckons from the deep
No postcards no glory no songs
Until that timid shore noses above the surf
Sending gulls racing before sails like confetti
Calling the aliens ashore
Pulse and adrenaline serve inevitability
Carving bravery out of rough hewn despair

-T. Weeks
(A response to “BOOK XXVII: Prayer of Columbus”)