A-Pass-Along (Untitled Poem)

The waves tug at us,
moving us forward, backward,
as we travel at the whim of the wind.

Black and forboding,
clear as azure,
the colors of the sea in the eye of the sailor.

Storms come and go,
leaving disaster in their wake,
but also granting us a new beginning.

Some hold onto driftwood,
barely hanging on,
While others walk on the water,
pure confidence.
And only those who hesitate begin to
s
i
n
k.
As we sail the sea of life.

Margo' H. Smith

My question of the day: are you walking on the water or sinking?

Thank you Margo for your contribution to HP!