THE SIGN

I wake to find a scene unkind, on vessel I do stand.
Adrift at sea; lost, scared and cold; in desperate need of land.

From whence came I? What purpose here? Which course should I set sail?
My heart longs after former home, yet all my senses fail.

Rotating, searching, looking out; no means to tell the way.
And so I drift with every wind, more helpless day by day.

Shall this continue endlessly? Shall sea become despair?
A purpose there must surely be, a course to chart…but where?

Then pausing, pondering, opening up…a prompting, “Look above”.
In yonder sky, a wisp of white, a sign of hope: a dove.

“Set sail”, my heart cries. “Follow thence. T’wil surely guide to shore”.
Yet speed I’ve not. I fall behind. The sign I see no more.

But all’s not lost. The way I know and if to this course I’m true.
Then home I shall be once again…my mansion built anew.

…Jeff Bresee

THE SIGN

Jeff Bresee

Mansfield, United States

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