Heart of Darkness

The ship of my life, the vehicle of my conscience self
raises its sails, tacks into the wind and keels over
as it leaps in one mighty bound
forward
toward the sun rising, the rays of which glare
off the rippled surface of the ocean
dancing
in a tapestry of peace in the wake of a malevolent storm
that marches ever closer
and any mention of the race freezes my inner being
with cold reality; the turtle and the hare
the past that I have walked
the future that I have yet to travel
the present course
west
to the edge of the world and over
to the edge of time
and over
to the heart of darkness
and over
to where we should meet again; at the end as we met in the beginning
in between all reasoning and cold reality
knowing nothing more than we did from the onset
nothing more but how we had met
alone
lonely in our meeting in the cold birth of meaning
of life, of living
of death and dying
lying now awake I taste the morning breeze of fate
and then and there I ready the sails and tack into the wind
a brave path toward a future horizon
blinking