No one walks a straight path, ever.
Even the stars trade secrets with oceans.
We all stumble toward something unseen,
dreaming of home, haunted by sirens.
The question is not if we waver,
but whether we prepare for the waver.
Odysseus understood what it meant,
to love chaos yet crave steady ground.
He told the crew, Bind me with rope,
hold me still against the song's pull.
His wisdom wasn't resisting the noise,
but knowing when to anchor himself.
So here we are, facing our storms—
not weaker, no, just differently tested.
Tie yourself to what keeps you steady.
What mast will hold you to your course?
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: December 14th, 2025 05:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
great read, thanks for sharing
Thanks Norman I appreciate your feedback and support
Blended with mythology this poem speaks of reality and to what anchor we choose to tie. A lovely poem Gray full of wisdom and advice. A fave
Thanks Soren I appreciate your kind words and feedback
You are most welcome Gray
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