Opaque

I keep hoping

pressing a spyglass into the hollow of my eye socket

that I can see through opacity

What are we looking for?

Is it the act of looking that draws us,

keeps the mind from the relentless rocking of rhythmic waves

surrounding us

How easy it is to tire of today’s problem solving

How easy it is, though I can barely maintain my footing,

to need, to try, to see the future through a capped lens

An eternal wanderer, (but) I need to know if I am going to end up somewhere someday

Otherwise, why keep going?

A cynical optimist, (and) I cannot bear thoughtless half measures anymore

If there will be no safe place to wash up on your shore

Just cut me loose