I am going the wrong way,
down the wrong street,
in the wrong direction.
It should have been me.
It should have been me.
It should have been me.
Hitch-hiking down the side of the road.
Experiencing the dirt splashed
in my face, so beautiful.
On my own, the one that people back home ask
"What ever happened to that guy?"
As they sit comfortable, smiling
I dream about the cosmos, seeking an answer
to the one important question
"is life worth living?"
Alone with my thoughts, my heart
as I move from town to town,
I brink upon insanity,
yet one thought keeps me sane:
I do have one final destination.
Yes, I am wandering aimlessly
while I experience, learn, and think,
but all because I know that one day
I will stop my travels
and I will share them all with you.
Like a ship that drifts out to sea,
exploring, enduring, excited,
the captain keeps his eyes on
the endless ocean ahead.
But, he didn't forget to remind the first mate
to always keep an eye on the lighthouse
that will eventually call them all back.
Yes, we are like two ships.
We travel the sea in different directions
Fighting monsters
Sweating, searching for treasure,
Learning and surviving
While the first mate keeps one eye on the lighthouse
and one eye on the skies
waiting
for a flare from the other ship,
a message, a sign,
so that we can scour the seas
together
now with two eyes on the lighthouse.
But, for now,
I look to the open blue,
a captain of a fantastic ship.
My first mate is a trustworthy one,
he will keep great watch on the lighthouse
and the skies.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
For that time when it is time.
And then WAIT! STOP! RIGHT THERE!
There it is.
That beautiful moment.
Where our eyes tell each other all we need to know.
Of our great crews, our battered ships,
our mounds of *****, our scars,
my wooden leg, your wooden arm
and of the countless nights that we stayed awake
just a couple extra minutes
and made doubly sure that the first mate
was doing his job
before we looked back at the lighthouse ourselves
wondering, yearning, believing
and hoping
that the other ship's crew was still doing okay,
or that their flares hadn't been drowned in the ocean,
or that the first mate hadn't contracted
a sudden loss of vision at any point
and lost sight of the skies and lighthouse,
or that they hadn't been swallowed
by some 14-eyed, massive sea monster.
And yes. Our eyes say it all.
They say "let's go get them."
The giant squid that took my leg,
the ferocious great white that took your arm,
our glance says it all
as we turn our ships together
laughing, sharing, and planning
our attack on the vicious creatures
that we couldn't obliterate alone
and our crews just don't understand.
But, I fear that recently
I have traded in my sails for a motor
that goes in my car
and drives me down a safe path
that leads straight towards the city.
And for some reason,
you are trying to sail
with just a block of wood
and a napkin.
Thankfully, I think I know a place in town
that might trade me a few decent bed sheets
to use as sails
for my expensive and powerful engine
and then
I can hitchhike back down the right path
back to the ocean.
Where I hope that you will have learned
a little bit more about the ocean,
and sailing,
because what you've been trying,
to put it harshly,
is a little stupid.
Where I can sail the ocean blue
never forgetting my final destination:
sailing right beside you.
Eventually.