finding peace

Finding peace is like finding land after days at sea

 tempest tossed and exhausted

dreaming of scrabbling upon any shore

a bedraggled survivor of a washed-up war

the lure of the sea’s a mystical thing

a few days away and you’re drawn back in

to chase the changing winds and tides

set sail across the glittering wides

perhaps it’s the freedom, perhaps it’s the air

perhaps it’s a passion – your soul lives there

eyes scan the horizon seeking the prize

though you cry land ahoy

a part of you dies