By Andrew R. Duckworth
I was afloat on a raft,
Drifting out to deep waters,
Where the sharks began circling,
Waiting for my hands to brush the water,
Circling their would be prey.
I looked into the ocean deep,
Blue on top, Blue on top,
But darker as it goes, down to the floor,
Dirty and swimming with unknown dangers,
Waiting for their would be prey.
I saw a storm approaching at the horizon,
Closer it came, closer it came,
With lightning strikes and massive waves,
Gathering energy from the waters deep,
Waiting to demolish its would be prey.
But not that day, not that day,
I turned to float another way,
To better waters,
And I found as I looked down
Through those waters clear
That a raft can take one anywhere,
Depending on where one steers.