Life isn't meant
To be spent
Treading  brackish water,
Never knowing
Whether to swim to sea
Or go upstream
The fresh waterways
Of the nostalgia days
Streaming home or
The salty waves
Of the horizon gazing
Back at me pulling away.
Is the undertow grasping
While I remain gasping
For just one breath
Better than knocking knees
Against rock shallow depth,
Mindlessly floating at ease
With the current it seems,
Still gently row row rowing
Navigating against growing,
A life only wishing for dreams.