I wake to find a scene unkind, on vessel I do stand.

Adrift at sea; lost, scared and cold; in desperate need of land.

From whence came I?  What purpose here? Which course should I set sail?

My heart longs after former home, yet all my senses fail.

Rotating, searching, looking out; no means to tell the way.

And so I drift with every wind, more helpless day by day.

Shall this continue endlessly?  Shall sea become despair?

A purpose there must surely be, a course to chart…but where?

Then pausing, pondering, opening up…a prompting, “Look above”.

In yonder sky, a wisp of white, a sign of hope: a dove.

“Set sail”, my heart cries.  “Follow thence.  T’wil surely guide to shore”.

Yet speed I’ve not.  I fall behind.  The sign I see no more.

But all’s not lost.  The way I know and if to this course I’m true.

Then home I shall be once again…my mansion built anew.

…Jeff Bresee

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