Paper Boats

my dreams are tied
like gossamer sails
to tiny paper boats
setting sail
upon rivulets of joy
that catch
the fleeting gaze
of a child
lost in the magic
of an orphaned sunbeam
upon her upturned palm.

The Little Sailboat

the little sailboat
rides the swell
of a tipsy ocean
sprawled out
beneath
a sober neon sky.

its destiny
is written
not by the
parched white sails
of defiance
billowing and
cutting through
waves and wind,

but rather
in knowing that
when it is
absolutely still,
the breath
of the whole cosmos
fills its sails,
and guides it
towards
the distant horizon.

strength lies
in knowing
when to be still,
so you are moved.

On a Boat to Nowhere...

On a boat
to nowhere....
slithering into
smelted silver
and inky waters,
a black and white
polka-dotted sky
looks down at me
with a million eyes;
long shadows grow,
merge and then disappear,
like strutting models
on an endless ramp,
the radiant moon
swallows my melancholy
in one large swoop
of her ever-open heart,
waves lap relentlessly
against my naked form,
caressing me softly, gently,
into a flowing trance;
I can hear the clouds gather
over the warm, distant seas,
I can hear the still wind blow
through the dancing river weeds,
I can hear my breath flow in
and out to the all-embracing sky,
I can hear my little heart quieten,
to the song of silence, without a try;
I am on a boat
to nowhere in particular,
no oars, no companion,
no thoughts to get me over;
no dreams, no hopes to hold on to,
no fears, no letting go,
just to be, to flow, to wander,
as I travel alone in this dark river.