Confidence is a fractured reflection in a raging tempest. No doubt, we will be lost at sea unless we find an anchor to our souls. We may be able to peer to the underside of the sea when all is well. There is very little required of a person when we can catch our next meal swimming next to our feet. It is foolish of us to become casual with the comforts that a force of nature bestows. As the tide builds above our shoulders we are at the clemency of a foe. What was one time a fluid stroke now becomes rapid. Brushed under the waves to be dashed by shell and swell, our illusions of control are vanquished. No longer tied to the fickle sea or to our temporary comforts, but the voice that says, "Peace, be still," when there is a fury.
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Reflect
PoesíaA series of creative writings from a man coping with a mid-mid life crisis.
