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Just Be There


 

In the Black Forest, Germany, is the source of the Breg River, headstream of the Danube

Water juts from the ground

Sprung from rifts deep within the earth for you to sail upon

 

Perhaps I have swam too far from the light of my ship

The sky is dark here, and I cannot see myself in the water

And my shortening breaths begin vanishing beneath the gulping surface

And my eyes sting as I struggle upstream

Formless

Exhausted against the countercurrent with no beckoning star to be found on the horizon

 

Never abandon a vessel tried and true

All your life you have been studying to design this ship

You know it’s maneuvering; it’s endurance, from what wood it was built

And on lonely winter nights when the howling wind chews at the cabin window

Don’t panic

Be steadfast

All channels flow into each other eventually

And ultimately, all true adventurers meet, in this life or another

 

Let others float to you

They are just a little ways downstream

So don’t worry

And let them float to you

 

Just be there

A buoy in the fog

Your chain sinking down into dark water

Your anchor wedged amongst anchors at the bottom of time.

 

 

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Comments (1)

Nliepman
<p>Early, I realized that to be considered a writer, one must write. I have been writing since childhood, so technically, I am one. To be a <em>good write</em>r, I have found, demands a much greater human sacrifice. It requires a good bit of living. If I want to make art, which I very much do, my pieces must speak truly and unabashed of the human condition. The desire to understand and participate in &ldquo;the big picture&rdquo; has driven me to blaze beyond the borders of my comfort zone, to allow myself to be vulnerable, and to discover my own ideals.&nbsp; All of my most significant growth has come from the refusal to be complacent with a suburban future, and the aspiration to entertain, educate, and inspire on a cosmopolitan level.&nbsp;</p>

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