It is coming now. The ship goes off to sea, leaving me behind. It was something like that. Do you ever feel left behind? Like when someone goes on a trip. There we have the crack (this was written in a Zen writing group and our prompt was from my classmates’ (Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge) book, poemcrazy.
We see the ship leave and we know that it is going to another world. We stay in our world. But our world is not the same because the ship is not in it any longer.
I didn't want to think about any more of the poem. I knew that I should be calming the sea and not making waves. I was trying to settle my mind and I had this fantasy that the bell would ring and the meditation session would be over and the rest of the poem would come to me effortlessly.
The ship goes off to sea,
leaving me behind.
What do I do with myself,
waiting for it to return?
Do ships really return?
This isn't going well. Sounds like some dumb sophomoric philosophical journey. Yikes!
But really … Have you had the experience that ships never really return? They have their grand adventure and then are reborn into something else.
Maybe I should write the poem more abstractly? Maybe a haiku?
Me behind, waiting
But maybe that wouldn't be so clear. You know what I mean by nothing. Right? Since the ship can't come back, I can't wait for it. Or I guess I could wait, if I want to set myself up for disappointment.
What is it that we wait for anyway? And is it ever the same when it comes?
Not that thinking again. Feel like hitting myself over the head.
Ship goes off to S E E
Someday to return
a different ship.
Maybe that's closer.
Where is the ship now? Is it dark and still as it is here, or is the sun rising and the waves bellowing? Have the people on the ship bonded into a tribe, making it impossible for anyone else to intervene?When the ship returns will it look the same, even if it is not the ship that left?
Returned ship never left,
only to fool
counting the days ...
believing this or that.