About six months ago I wrote a poem.
It was while I was struggling to think through what I was going to do next in my life – so I figured, why not express myself in rhyme ? It worked for Keats and Whitman, why not me?
It’s about that inner conflict of leaving something comfortable in pursuit of purpose – about how a lot of times change is hard and doesn’t make sense. Maybe I shouldn’t explain any more, maybe you can read it and let me know what you think.
Take from it what you will :
And We Will Both March Forth
When you walk off the compass
and the rose has lost north,
I could sing to you of marble trust
And we can both march forth.
The night is dark, the road is long –
the wolves here offer no support.
You can lean on me, my back is strong
and we can both march forth.
This unknown land has a secret wood –
the brave here made a fort.
We call them slaves, those who stayed and stood,
But we can both march forth.
Now we venture in uncharted lands
and by the sea there’s a port.
Looking back from these distant sands
we see that long lost north.
Now my chest has this journey’s brand
since we both lost north –
across the sea now, just take my hand
and we will both march forth.