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