A Pirate Lost at Sea (by Mark Nielsen, Feb. 26, 2009)
It is hard to use a star chart in the city,
As a pirate in the age of SUVs.
The bills stack up, the pipes back up,
Your ship is sinking under all the weight.
It is hard to be a mystic in the milieu,
To seek a path, and then you rush right past it.
From the shore your captain waves,
“Come ashore and rest,” he begs,
But you’re busy with the map, too dense to hear him.
It is hard to be still when each sinew
Within you wants to scream and cry and grasp.
To force your own solution, to demand a substitution
When all you really had to do was ask.
It is tricky when the Wind is trying to send you
Where you want to go, but you refuse to yield.
You are tacking instead,
Backing up, lost in your head,
Looking toward those greener pastures,
Serving way too many masters,
Out of earshot of the calling of a friend.
Hearth and home are far away, around the corner,
You come home each night, but never really live there.
For you’re still out on the seas —
Missed the forest for the trees —
You keep taking, but you’ve nothing left to offer.
Cast your fate upon the shore of severe mercy.
The only way to get back home is burn your map.
Sail on back and get your captain.
Let him be the peace you’re wrapped in.
Turn around now, you’ve sailed into a trap.