We can comfort ourselves
with platitudes; say
"Life is short."
"It can change at any time."
Then the shock of the water,
the pool on opening day,
that phone call, that look
hits us, and we know.
The bruises and the tender spots,
the winces and the tears
that will never quite fade;
the stains that sit until,
familiar, we wouldn't find our way
without them.

Our navigational systems

In the beginning,
the wisdom shared in full knowledge,
by those who sailed before us,
is the lies we tell ourselves
to get through the day,
to get through the next hour,
to get through that minute:
we all know it.

But then the lies become insight
become truth
become wisdom.
And we're passing on the coordinates
to the next mariner, sailing on
the seas of disaster.

Poor souls--
the maps we use we make ourselves.