Sunday, May 30, 2010

North Star

Although the ages ebb and flow
around the axis dreams may flow
the spindle of the compass fixed upon
a most unlikely mix;
at least I thought it so.

But as the miles flowing fly,
the shore comes closer by the bye,
I see my goal extended.
How wise a hand the tiller holds,
How bold a breath the sails unfold,
How great a plan brings me to land.
Unmeasured treasures of the shores.


Kerri said...

I'm assuming you wrote this. It's beautiful. You have a gift.

eea said...

I love you Kerri.

hope said...

Found your blog address again. I love this. A different side of you I had yet seen until today.