Three Songs

A crash landing amongst cedar trees and soft paddling turtles.

The distance to whimsy has never been further.

There are no dreams to dream of loves long past. Not when the crash landing was planned.

You don’t end up halfway round the world by accident. Or at least, I haven’t. This has been a long crafted design. One that saw closer threat of never being realized than the actuality of it.

I name the siren “Hope” and follow her song over the horizon. Wondering if I had misheard “Destiny” instead of “Danger.” I’m left with the suspicion that she is all three.