In water skiing there is an element

of risk.

The ability to ride the wake

sometimes an art

more often

a comfort zone whereby the player

may gasp freely for air

while being thrust upon a sea of

shattering glass.

 

Still they hold on, still reliant.

 

In love

there too is a wake

a place of sometime fortune

elsewhere loss,

 

it is the finding balance

the.conscious eye

the some way riddled body

must learn then

withstand freely

an ever changing

wind-swept horizon.

 

still they hold on, still reliant

 

In death

there lays the wake of memory

always marvelous

an eternal glow

and yet

the hour of loss

the same calm

such similar pattern of holding on

finding balance

plays silent

in the rush of

our wandering mind.

 

still they hold on, still reliant

 

would rushing through the water

with all my strength find my wake

 

without her sweet guidance

 

~ finding my way, a personal journey –

for Zelda