Row boat upon the ocean's tides.
How small, the space of safety left to me.
Unknowingly, I drift upon the endless seas
of what might one day be reality.

Every storm becomes another threat,
that very well might compromise it all.
And the storms, they come and go
at the will and wish of some great power
ever left mysterious to me.

Shall I believe in the security of these
few boards that man has put together?
When still, I cannot see a shore arise
within this mortal sight.

Believe, they say, believe! I hear that
chant so often echoing upon the wind.
Yet even wind blows icy cold through me.
As I hunger for the warmth of an embrace
that never comes...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...