As a sad suffering sailor floats face downward with a withered head submerged In thick pasty water, his body quivers as his friends sing out a melancholic dirge.
With vengeance in their hearts, and bosoms burning and writhing in pain; They drop their lowly heads, and offer a final dark disparaging refrain.
And in their conspicuous minds their real pity is so tragically revealed.
But do not sit; And for goodness sake don't you stew.
Look yonder! Yes, look yonder my foolish friends ...
For there is nothing you can ever really do.
Lift your hearts upward! Yes, upward.
Lift them upward, and onward To the Lord.
Perhaps one of the most liberating features of English poetry is the freedom to be caught in the rapture and rhythm of the written word.
In this particular case, my poem, " A Killer Tsunami Wave" may illustrate how an ordinary poet may allow himself to fathom the depths of human despair before offering a spiritual solution to a very serious human problem.
Certainly no one is more immune to the capricious changes of time than you.
But when it comes to the unpredictable forces of fate and destiny, none of us may discount the powerful factors that may impinge upon the fragile nature of our daily existence.
One way of adapting to the instability of human life may be a humble admission to the great futility of our own predicament.
It may also be true that by acknowledging our human weaknesses, we may gain more strength than we could have ever thought possible.
It is indeed true that such an insight may provide us with real sustenance, no matter how transient and precarious it may be.