Two strong men picked up a log and tossed it in the sea,
Looked out upon what they had done and realized gleefully,
That float away the log did!
That run away the log slid!
Reached out and slammed upon, they floated right along,
Sang out in glee and merriment a lovely little song,
Two strong men picked up a log and tossed it in the sea,
Now look out and gaze upon two sailors grown to be.

Heart raising a hollow mist to the heavens
In the cove this sultry spring’s morning.
Thoughts quicken to brightly colored sail boats
Sitting quietly in their moorings.
Bobbing about to and fro
With masts reaching tall into the fog.
Tethered to land and to each other –
They dance effortlessly in the waves.

Farther out into deeper waters larger vessels
Move slowly about the harbor.
Some anchored awaiting to unburden their bloated bellies
While others sit high in the water to take on new cargo.
Each with a scurry of movement about their decks
In preparation for the chores of today’s tasks.
The pier becoming the object of their labors.

My mind dissected by the peacefulness of the sailboats
And transgressed by the labors of the larger vessels.
A frightfully busy place is the harbor.
A tranquil loving place is the cove.
A visual blend of both seemingly distant worlds
Lie before me indulging my mind into each.

And I wonder…

Am I as this sailboat tethered safely to the shore
Or am I in the harbor scurrying about
To take on the next heavy load?
The mystery hidden somewhere in the blanketing fog.
Walking across the small dock
Feet capture the movement of my sailboat.

I release the chains that tether her to mother earth
And she, I in her belly, move away from her bindings.
No longer restrained sails slip us from the cove
And into the harbor as the sun rises a new day.
The veiling fog lifting to reveal the answered
Question of this mornings predawn endeavor.

The difference between the cove and the harbor
Lies not in the depth of the water.
That depth need not be frightening.
Looking back into the cove from the harbor
I find that it is what I have brought with me –

That is what makes all the difference…..

the world grows older
it's just like me
but when I was younger
I pretended to be doughty
as they saw from the outside
my queen and king let me travel this world
it was the right time
and their hance
I started my stride
left my castle and others
hey it's not easy!
it's not my place, not my home
but sometimes I realized
I'm not their little girl anymore
then I learn how to learn