Ye Olde Ship Myopia

Hewn from bow to stern & anchor to crow’s nest

with repetitive thoughts and feelings,

ever in a becalmed sea or ever in a bestormed sea,

but never of the deep Sea of Be,

Ye Olde Ship Myopia sails on and on and on.

With an eye above and below and in between,

I stand aboard and

sense the subtle trade winds of sex and light.

In an infinitesimal yet momentous

shift of Attention,

all the creatures of the sky and all the stars of the sea,

backlit by the booming silence of Nothing,

dance before me.

Yes, I may be on Ye Olde Ship Myopia,

but I am now and forever

of the deep Sea of Be.