Jeff Bresee Poet Rhyme

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.

“Why am I here? Where should I turn?” 
“Which course should I set sail?”
I try to keep myself composed, 
but all my senses fail.

Rotating, searching, looking out, 
no means to know 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 distant sky, a wisp of white, 
a sign of hope - a dove.

“Set sail!”, my heart cries. “Follow thence 
until you reach the shore.”
Yet speed I’ve not.  I fall behind.  
The sign I see no more.

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

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