A Rudderless Sunday

Unknown direction. Without meaning. Nothing imposed. A wisp of freedom. Like when we were twenty-two, only a few decades north.

A dream – by day. The steering apparatus is inoperative. Lighthouses, invisible and unimportant.

No speed. No supervision.

Drifting from a world of ‘tearing down’ to a boundless testing ground of un-inspected wonder. From fizzle – to fulfillment.

A breath of wind, a devised current, a generated Sunday wave . . . anticipated, only happening because of a divot in your heart.

You ponder all surrounding literature and realize the best is – unread.

This upcoming sentient cruise with; a shared, solemn language restricted to those topics that you identify as the most sacred – for you. An ultimate disconnect of troubles, rocky shorelines or nautical mishaps. A capturing of wholesomeness that only freedom – in its purest form – is capable of bringing.

Now . . . allow the ship on which you are sailing to disappear, and the ‘thinker of these thoughts’ – let that person disappear also.

Any and all attachments – allow none a free ride. It’s Sunday.

Your Sunday.

Published by Kumi

Liaison to the Infinite.

Join the Conversation

1 Comment

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: