On the ocean shore of an alienated yet aspiring soul,
Wild thoughts stampede like a herd of impeded horses,
They frolic on the foaming rocks, believing they are whole.
Mare and stallion jostle in this sport on racing courses.
Sometimes the stormy waters become serene and calm,
Mirroring narcissistic life as in a magic pool,
Soon all lies quiet, without any trace of harm,
Even for my dinghy which transports this crazy fool.
When a sense storm breaks I flee to my cabin down below,
And batten down the hatches waiting for the clouds above
And rainbow entertainment, to swiftly fly and go.
I pray for the coming of Love's snow white turtle dove.
She flies by, bearing an olive branch of emerald green,
I stand and wait aboard my craft, patient, silent, still.
I've fled the rough tempest of mind's stricken struggling scene,
My dinghy's reached God's peaceful beach on quite another shore.
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