Washed Up

I thought he could join my canoe.

That we wouldn’t be perfect, 

But we could be balanced. 

His realism and skepticism

To match my wanderlust and high flying plans 

And together we could just sway gently. 

While he planted and cared for each seed we laid,

I was thinking ahead to the forest they could become.

He planned to save dollars,
I planned to turn them into something grand. 

Every hug he gave,

I tried to count how many I could get in a lifetime. 

He warned that someday I may drift too far,

But I let the wind push me with lovingly.

Like a child who knew nothing of war,

I was prepared to run through the minefield 

Taking each blast as another brush with destiny.

But the canoe ran aground one day

And realism turned into an anchor.

The mist up ahead, the wonder of what the future holds

Wandered off down the stream without me. 

‘We’ll catch up’ I thought, pushing the canoe out of the rocks

Just to find that he had gone ashore.

‘The future is unpredictable, 

Let’s just stay here for a while’

But content sunk into contempt

As doubt corrupted faith 

And tore the bridge between us with it. 

I watched the bridge sink into the river, 

Bits of wood and clumps of rope

Flowing freely now.

Held captive at the banks

I felt in my heart that I still knew the way

If only I could convince him to come with me. 

The piece of my heart too scared to feel again

Knocked quietly and asked if it was time.

Time to leave, to be alone for a while,

To plant a tree, just a tree, 

and leave the forest be. 

For a heart that was taught to love all

And to love all, entirely

I cried at the thought of letting go.

Easing my pain, I decided to count again.

Three times I thought about breaks. 

Four times hiding from him. 

Three restless nights spent walking the halls. 

Six songs I hear to remind me of you,

To never hear of when you’re reminded of me.

Countless daydreams of weddings and happiness.

Countless shadows of doubt and indifference. 

Every time I tried to fix that wrecked canoe

To salvage the good from the water, 

He told me ‘leave it be,

We don’t need it right now.’ 

But the moon sat high

A brilliant light through the trees

Guiding even the weary turtles toward their future-

But not me. 

‘You don’t know what’s down there’

He’d say to persuade me

With talks of provisions and money. 

But a river is never the same,

Life will keep changing, 

Its water ever churning and flooding

I want to fly with it, glide over rocks and stumble down waterfalls

And only that canoe can take me. 

Who’s to say which path was right 

Or which one of us was braver.

You will still be part of everything I do. 

You will still be my first and last thought all of these long nights. 

But I cannot be brushed off again,

Told my concerns don’t exist

But that the fallacies will ‘get better.’ 

To always be told that you’re working on it,

But feeling like you’re just working on building a new canoe

Without me in it. 

Perhaps that village girl is helping you build it

So you can leave for good this time.