Treasure Island

Justin Houseman


To Be


Draw a few straight lines
Connecting them around
The bends that they should
Make. Do you have an ant?
A fish? A man or woman?

Or is it life that we see
In the shades of color, in
Straight lines bent awry
To form the magic that
We call life among us?

A fishing pole cannot
Work without the line
And lure giving way
To the current. Every
Bending thing adds

Beauty to life, like a
Dancer gracefully bent
Over as she begins to
Live across the stage,
All with a bending motion.

Nothing could be so hard
As to live a rigid life. Even the
Obstinate icebergs give way,
Curving into the sea of life
As cold as the ice itself.

The trees do not argue
Against the wind. Only
Mountains try it, and then
They crumble to dust. Clouds
Flow. Water flows. I flow too.

Wherever I go, I flow, but
The wind won’t blow me away.
I’m still fixed to one point.
I am the kite string.
I am the sky. I am.

Submitted: Thursday, February 06, 2014
Edited: Thursday, February 06, 2014

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