The Journey

A golden sky day
and the past keeps running away
from my grasp
as I relapse back
into the land called
"What Was."
That land is so different from the sea
which I should be living in called
"What Is."
The problem is
is that I'm stuck between the two
not knowing what to do or
who to turn to anymore.
"What Was" offers me protection
in its security of preservation
and unchangeable perfection.
I know that I am safe there,
that nothing can affect me in
a place where things can't even be
affected themselves.
But I keep edging to its shores.
"What Was."
I'm standing on its shores staring at
"What Is."
And "What Is" seems a different story;
more empty and lonely
and subject to change at any given
feeling, word, action, or meaning.
I keep believing that I will manage in "What Is"
but the damage will be too irreplaceable.
"What Was" is far away now,
I am in the waters.
Looking into the distance at the land of "What Will Be"
I row through the choppy seas of "What Is" not knowing
when the storm will be over but always expecting to reach
a better land.
"What Will Be," the hope.
"What Is," cold reality.
"What Was," warm memories.
Oh please don't let me sink.