Like a coracle in the tempest,
Like a tree transplanted,
Is the soul filled with unrest
For the yearnings yet unanswered.
Would that youth brought old age–
The wisdom found and earned by gray–
Would that seekers saw past turning page
That the longing might not the appetite slay.
But the sea will calm, unannounced and free,
And the tree with find it’s roots the same.
One day you will have the eyes to see
The blow that whelms does not maim.
So take this lesson close to heart:
That which is best of you shall not depart.
–Written 16 August 2011