II. Castaway

Castaway

On his island
He dwells.
Left behind
from a war
made seemingly
endless by
gluttonous Gods,
he cries for her,
she that keeps
him sane;

Winged demons
circle
overhead


“Know-how”

Sailing
requires knowledge
of air and sea
direction and self.

Green,and
yellow;
She is ignorant
to all of the above.


“Push”

Storms
at sea
like to see
just how far
they can
push each wave
before they
break.

On raft
at sea
under waves
and rain.
Here she is.
She thinks,
to self.
Breathe,
and this is all
she can do.

Under the strain of weather.
She feels no closer
than years before.

Breathe.

I. An Epic 0f Two

Once upon a time
before the taste of salt water
had flooded her mouth
before she had lost the compass
and learned to route that stars,
before he had ink
and found his voice to sing
There had been two;

Two beings so in love
the gods greened with envy.
Two,
whom before ever knowing
the other
had paved paths
To each other
Time and time again,
no matters what obstacles
were set.

The gods
so enraged
by this impenetrable
work of Venus
set to assure
the two would
never again be
As one.

And so the story goes,
the master god of war,
and the god of mania
conjured the plot,
to leave both lovers
alone
and distraught
cursing each other,
intent for the two
to destroy themselves.

Alas, noble war
was fabricated
and waged.
the hero,
lost
in sands of time
And madness descended
upon them both.

As a decade neared
of separation
with the heroine,
Left behind to wonder,
and unraveling still,
forced
To believe
Her beloved lost
For always.

Until one day,
she found a bottle
on beach sand
unbroken, shipped
by ocean waves,
A letter contained within
Heralding the message,

“and so…”

And so, she knew, he was,
still.

His bottled message
moved mountains,
as words he sang were read
By the only eyes
that would understand.

And to her guardian,
shining,
She too
penned a message,
and posted it
upon her front door

His song 
Finds its way to her
and she
Sings along…

Without skill
or preparation,
with only maybe,
Somehow, somewhere
And someday
She set out,
to port,
cast off
and by life raft,
out to sea.

III. Thoughts

Wondering

Storm
and another week
passed,
Wondering.

She wonders
how supplies
for 1
seem to be
never ending
in supply

A skeptical believer
sometimes
suspects.
Her fortune
On this quest
so far
Gifted
by some
Benevolent,
Omniscient
Power.


“Acquiescence”

And then
one day
she stopped
counting the days
since she
had stepped
aboard.
She had never considered
that cabin fever
or being castaway
could be
so terrible

“Home is where the heart is”
She whispers
to her shadow.