THE VESSEL

As you close your eyes, listen to the wind.

Imagination unfurls, takes flight, winged.

The mode of transportation is your mind;

Soar across green fields, the top of trees skimmed.

Stand at ocean’s edge, as the currents rhymed.

Waves grind against the sand; the wind is kind –

In that if I close my eyes, the contract’s signed.

I wait by the temple door, sound is thinned.

My vessel’s tenuous; I’m almost blind.

The wind is sentient, mischievous friend.

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