Shared Strength

He casts the line overhead in rhythm, A learned rhythm all his own. He dreams of rivers, streams, and lakes, Blue waters cut by line and leader. He learns as only a child can learn, Innocent and full of grace in failure— To experience rather than perfect, To enjoy rather than understand. The line snaps overhead as it flies, Satisfied, it lays upon the lawn. His blue eyes focused, his arm tight— I have seen this look before. He learns for the sake of learning, His actions driven by his will. To show it can be done, if tried, To enter a world of his creation. What becomes of he who learns In a world of polish and acclaim, Where pursuit of the best—or not at all— Seems to be the golden rule? To be a kid in a world too small, For the boy who chooses it all— And enjoys the moment within, Just him and the task at hand. In life, it shall serve him well, To see what others do not dare, And bravely test the status quo, Unchained from failure’s yoke. To stay his course, he may go far— He has the...

The room spun left to right I moved not, but faster still it went Round and around without relief Stomach churned in resistance Moments ago we wrestled around Without worry or concern But change can start in an instant And sometimes life is never the same I fight you, and you know I often do Take advantage and punish you No concern for what is right or wrong Because of what you did to me I was young and in my prime We lived well, happy and free Then, with a lump, everything changed Was it your choice or my failure? You became frail and I did as well We watched the world spin round Without us ever forward, ever alone At odds we were from that day forth Now the world spins anew Just not figuratively as it did before Now it spins from within and random And I know not why or how But now I sit in a silent panic Staring at the trees far distant Pondering a pine box for you And what truly becomes of me... I was always the important one You, just a vehicle of sorts Have now become the captain ...

Above the clouds, beyond the toil, Blue skies and water merge as one. A flight over the vast Pacific— For a boy from the star thistle of Penryn, It feels unhinged from all known. From Pullman’s quiet college halls To the endless stretch of the ocean’s reach, No map could ever capture this scale, This immensity that humbles the soul. Just yesterday, I said goodbye To my grandpa in San Diego— His aging frame uncertain. I wonder if I’ll see him again. An Asahi beer with my cousin— We laughed, in that old hot tub. A month ago, I wore a cap and gown, The first to graduate in my family, Now clutching a gift from my professor: A season abroad in the Orient. Passports stamped, vaccines taken, Plans hastily patched together. A summer of love ended in a bittersweet hug, Leaving me a young boy, standing alone At life’s prism, its endless choices waiting. My mom fretted, unsure what to do. Dad leaned on his time in uniform. But even they knew this was different: A rural boy, unteathered in a world...