Ballast

I find a moment closing. Another door opens. Hold tight, let go. Imagined destiny finds a detour. A frame of words carefully holds what is of value. Loose tendrils hang down your face. Heat comes to the surface at the corners of liquid eyes. A grey day of boats moored. Ships echo sounds of whales and writhing and longing. Momentum forward is imagined. Stand still in strength. Searching the clouds only brings prediction of destiny. Unknowing. Take the rope as it is tossed out to you. Hold on, grab hold or let go and sink into a sea of past lives. Ballast is in the underneath pockets of stone and seaweed. Tangled mystery is cobalt blue. Grey eyes search the horizon as wings flap in slight effort. Wonder forward. All of it is held in your embrace. Cold stone awaits imprint.

cabin by water

Tree in the mast