my mind is the expansive sea

bending

at Mother Nature’s

will

my thoughts are sailboats

lost

in the tumultuous ocean

the approaching storm is the looming

deadline for which I have

no control

now is the time that the masses

set sail

pressure.

winds pick up

faster and faster

as the day turns tempestuous

inexperienced.

some boatsmen strive for perfection the

first time

that they set sail,

little do they know that perfection is

impossible

optimistic.

sailors feel the waves beginning to

crash

against the sides of the boat, yet

still remain positive

power.

the waves become

choppier

and the wind becomes

harsher

yet the boats still fight to stay their course,

though the sea will never truly be

controlled

direction.

sails are repositioned,

curses are sent up to the skies,

but the sea is relentless in the

fight

to determine your path

distraction.

sailors who refuse to face their reality head on

and allow themselves to wander off course, will

drown

indecision.

shall the boats flee while they have the chance

or continue to battle the

turbulent

waters praying for the best?

give in.

those who are now weary allow themselves to be swept up

in the flowing waters,

those who wish to go back are out too far

adjust.

after riding out the storm,

sails need to be straightened,

ropes need tightening,

but the worst is over

hope.

land

is spotted on the horizon,

the sun

banishes the clouds

replenish.

sailors relish in the feeling of

solid ground

below their feet and a dry place to

rest

for the night

dawn brings the promise of a

new day

and a

new adventure,

yet also raises the concern for

storms building in the distance

welcome to another day at sea