By Andrew R. Duckworth
We’re on a ship
With nature’s breath on our sails,
Directionless through the sea.
We stopped our sacred traditions
Long ago, that space void
And that voice that guides
Drifts off far beyond our ears,
Drifts off, the days to years
As we’re on a ship
Directionless through the sea.
Directionless-
Here, there, everywhere,
A loner in the midst
Of a dark vastness,
Over deep water,
With no light to guide the way
And little thought
Of where we’re going.
Poetry and Essays of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 