ISLANDS

Wafts of wispy quixotic qualms float over the mind

when washed by the oceans of tangential tides,

with those rivulets in reveries that lure at the heart

while dwelling the sanctuaries of surety,

where life is affixed in the senses of reliance

as an isle of indwelling for the spirit,

safely sheltered from the perils

of phenomena that stir stress and stifle.

 

It is to live before the sunrise

upon the beach of paradisiacal grains

made from the tranquil tones felt inside

because serenity is an inner song

infused by the melodies written with confidence

instead of the chaotic clamor in claptrap cymbals.

 

For it is when one stands in silence

along that shore of many footprints

and chooses to make one’s own path,

regardless of the signs or signals,

that anywhere one exists

becomes the island of choice,

a place of liberty and true identity

imbued with calm that endures,

since it thrives in that self induce oasis.

 

Peace flows like a zephyr wind,

upon that stroll on soft ivory sands

beyond the caves, caverns,

huts and bushes,

which so often snare as solutions to anxieties.

 

Alone is the journey of pure perspicacity

as the Robinson Crusoe within

finds rescue without ever leaving

the place where hopes were shipwrecked.