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Voyage
The end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started.
—T.S. Eliot
Over stressed waves of ebb and flow of salt.
How swell, my voyage is, in float through cave.
Is sought, the treasures of life - opens vault.
I find surge exciting. I’m shipshape brave.
The map pinpoints the stars - ebon, a fave.
I turn on helmet’s lamp - the moon listing
as passage caved…my travel persisting.
The roar of thunder salve, erupting seas.
Of course, we steer from falls. This’s existing!
World’s end! Fine mood morphs to brooding degrees.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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