Gatha

Motivations lie scattered
like so many supporting sticks
in the cellar of an old house
held up by twigs.
To keep the house upright
is to work without rest,
here a little, there a little,
like spinning plates.
Work is driven by
fearful creaks and groans,
and proud dreams of
ornate mansions.
But here in the cellar floor
is a door unopened.
Its ancient wood planks
smell of childhood days
playfully lost amongst
sunlit trees on
timeless summer afternoons.
The occasional splash heard
against its unseen side
recalls crisp ocean air
blown across the bright
deck of a sailboat
free at sea.
If only such a door
could lead back to
that place of endless wonder.
But no time now to
explore this door’s depths,
for the house threatens
to crumble at the
slightest quiver or breeze.
How much longer can this
tiring and tedious
work continue before you
Peek beneath the
hidden door at the
base of your rotting house,
To face the inevitable
and find out what
Power really keeps
this houseboat afloat?