Tranquil, Wide Horizon

Gratitude comes at various times, in sometimes surprising circumstances. I'm extremely thankful to be at this point in my healing.

This poem is largely about my dad, who passed away 7 years ago yesterday. I visited him each of the first 9 days he was at the Togus Hospice. Then I remember realizing that whatever was happening within him wasn't about me, that he and I were good. So, as he lay there silently doing his own work, I said my good byes. He died a few days later.

One of my biggest fans, especially of my poetry, I know he would be grateful for the healing I've accessed, for the shift that this piece represents.

Tranquil, Wide Horizon

Two ships sail on a foggy sea,
their courses diverge.
One heads to brighter, freer days,
the other set to travel
 in the same unending denseness.
Its cargo includes
drums of despair,
heaps of heartache,
barrels and barrels of burdens.
With feet firmly planted on
the deck of my own ship,
I raise a steady hand,
 wave a misty-eyed good bye.
Those on the deck,
at the helm,
 of that galleon of gloom,
had brightness mingled with
 their shadows,
but distress and tension reigned.
I was on that ship for a time,
my caring heart,
loving nature
groomed to lug a load
that was not mine.
I had to disembark,
climb aboard a ship of my own –
not an easy feat.
Though my shoulders still ache
from the strain of those years,
I carry gratitude
as more and more I discern
transcendent, lively
 treasures within.
That dark ship has sailed.
 My voyage continues as I look
to the tranquil, wide horizon that beckons.
I hear the gentle waves,
marvel at the starry sky of night,
feel the warmth of
continually emerging light
wafting over the welcoming seascape.
I breathe deep the refreshing air,
fill with acceptance,
wellness, and love.

Sarah Carlson

November 22, 2018
Thanksgiving