Unmoored

Perhaps there is something wrong with you.
Perhaps not. Age has taught you
there is far less normal
than they would have you believe.

But you know you have been adrift
far too long. Unmoored.
Trusting tides and currents and winds
to show you the way to the promised land.

And if they does not. Well then, OK.
I will have had a hell of a journey along the way.
And that counts for something.
Maybe even, enough.

About this poem

The last few years have felt…unmoored, leaving me wondering if it is age, depression, or just God letting me rest from the drive I had when I was young. It’s not bad. Not at all, but years into the drift, it still feels foreign.

Tom