And thought has fled.
When creation is abandoned,
For existence instead.
I walk this road,
Holding my own hand.
And row this boat,
Hoping alone for land.
I could brave the tide.
But I might fall.
I could run back to shore.
More likely crawl.
I’ll cross the water,
Cold and deep.
And slide o’er the edge,
Silently leap.
I can see your wide eyes.
As I float away.
See your reaching hand,
You whisper ‘please stay’.
I banish the tears,
As they find their way.
I trusted love.
I trusted mine.
This river is wide.
This boat is small.
These waves are crashing.
This heart is sore.
These oars are breaking.
This tear does fall.
This lover dives.
Far off the shore.
I walk this road,
Holding my own hand.
And row this boat,
Away from land.
