We are forever tossed in an uncertain ocean,
Redrafting on yesterday's wind,
Unable to discern the sea's
Intention.
Waves break upon each other,
As we speculate on the direction of home,
Knowing the clouds will not part
And allow for a sure westward reading.
Our ship is trimmed,
And able, for now, to ride the waves.
If we can steer a true course,
One that escapes the gathering storm.
But the Salmon swims half a world
Knowing where it will come to rest.
Returning to complete its cycle
Indifferent to thunder and darkness.
Its journey near complete
It struggles not just to the end
But for the end
Where symmetry reaches perfection.
A mere simple fish
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