The Stray

mist-covered road
or is it the dust from my eyes
that bring these clouds down
flooding me with questions

is there a path I am born to journey in

or is the journey a path I have make

how can I surf through the ebb and flow of waters

when I do not even know how to swim

among the many streams that run to meet the ocean

which stream takes me to the spring I long for...

am I... lost.  ?

I have not even charted a destination---

for there are many byways and dead ends

and crisscrossing courses leading me
elsewhere... everywhere

nowhere

adrift in a sea of doors and windows

I drown without dipping my feet in
as I am without an anchor and without a star

my tattered sails
befriend the waves and the winds
begging to be led

my oars stirs the sea further

bringing me farther ...

between here and there

is a bunch of blinding glitters
bursting and bustling
filling up a vacuum
making the space emptier