The Truth About Choices

The schooner is anchored just inside the jetty,
near – within swimming distance, a two room barge,
home, slightly disconnected, neither land nor sea.
Peaceful enough on days like to day when the wind is still,
a bit less than safe in storms,
too like too much of your own life,
with loose mooring you cannot decide
whether to hold anchor, or toss the anchor aside
and make your way to deeper, dangerous waters.

At times, you have done both,
and the results are inconclusive
as to which is truly safe and which is truly adventurous,
confusing enough that you come to realize
it is the not the decision making that decides,
that the unseen governs results
far more than whether the anchor is tight or released,
whether fate or God, you will come to the place
you are meant to be, as long as you choose
something.

About this poem.

Make a choice. Do something. What we choose may matter less than if we stay with it.

Or a poem about sailing. Poetry is never about one thing.

The picture was taken in Provincetown. Mass.

Tom