The sea nudges gently.

It is not demanding or judgmental;

it has what it needs, without any offering.

And when I’ve lost my will,

the waves tugboat me,

push me towards my next port,

though in my fog,

I cannot foresee.

My North Star lost,

the sky distorts.

I need to find land whatever the cost,

so dear waves,

take me where I can at least reach.


4 responses to “Tugboating”

  1. I feel your frustration, Katie: we lose our way so easily ; the poem captures it so well —

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      Anonymous

      Thank you, John. I watched this tiny tugboat move a mountain of a ferry. It was so impressive, I had to include it here.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This poem can serve as an extended metaphor or analogy for so many things in life. You’ve tagged it under relationships and I understand how they can feel this way sometimes.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, OP. I have been drifting a lot lately. It’s not anybody’s fault, but I sure how a cosmic tugboat pushes me in the right direction for 2025. Cheers! Happy holidays!

      Liked by 1 person

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