Friday, October 28, 2011

The Destination Is Up to You

The sails of his ship were made

 From butterfly wings,

He conquered the imaginations,

Of poets and kings,

He shared his adventures

About lands far away,

Then he caught a passing breeze,

And floated to a secret bay,

My small universe expanded,

A trickle became a flood,

The stories he told,

Now run in my blood,

I’ve set my course to reach,

Just one distant star,

And fill my notes with memories,

Of things as they are,

When I return to this earth,

My travels I will share,

You may choose to soar with me,

If you take the dare,

Somewhere there is a forgotten land,

I’ll need to take a look,

And you with your writer’s eye,

Can describe it in a book,

For not all get the chance,

To see all that we shall see,

If you write with words that live,

Those worlds will become reality,

Take the helm of this ancient ship,

And let your imagination play,

If I had clung to this earth,

I wouldn’t be here today,

These sails are woven,

 From butterfly wings,

And covered with stories,

From poets and kings,

I’ve sailed the oceans blue,

There’s nothing this ship can’t do,

Just steer for a distant star,

The destination is up to you.

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