A Lone Sail's Distant Shadow

A river flows through gentle stretches and over sheer cliffs, but in the end, it always reaches the sea. A lone sail fades into the distance beneath an empty moon. Where can an old traveler find the way home? How could a mountain stream ever hold back? In the end, it joins the sea and becomes part of the waves. There are thousands upon thousands of answers to life. “Do what you can with a mortal heart; there is no better understanding” may be a fine choice. By chance, I acquired the art of reading water. What I read was the landscape, or perhaps myself. This is a record of life’s everyday currents, and a prelude to the passing years, dedicated to time and to myself.