Sailor Man

When does vision and imagination become delusion?

I am alone on the ocean of consciousness.

Vast yet finite, calm yet rough,

deep and mysterious, yet familiar,

clean and clear, yet polluted.

I am rudderless, 

subject to the whims of the currents.

The harder I paddle, the more tired I become

the distance covered is circular and insignificant,

an illusion of progress.

In the midst of a tropical depression

strong enough to be noticed

common enough to be ignored

all the while, potentially dangerous

salty waters fill my eyes.

Descending into a maelstrom of madness,

watching the slow deconstruction of my vessel,

its power churning me into kindling.

Do I bother fumble with a life jacket,

or do I look down into the vortex

and succumb to the inevitable?

Is this where I will find the sunshine.

is drowning the enlightenment 

With the stark clarity of the darkness below, 

I plunge into the depths of freedom.