The Fourth Ship

caravel[1]

Some fantasize about leaving their reasonable lives of routine and moving to an exotic land . I dream about being an accountant. If only my passion was the tidy logic of columns and sums, not the metaphor of alchemy or search for meaning in a swallow’s cursive scrawl, I would not have to leave the comfort of my couch, my book, my afghan– hunting epiphany.

As much as I long for security and stasis, I must risk. The self that roils within does not allow for security. I must throw myself into the wind , seek the impractical but passionate dream— hazard failure without remorse.

I dive and fall, and trust life to carry me to the surface, for I too, am the fourth ship.

I recite, Carmen Tafollas, Voyage.

Which ship are you?

 For the next several weeks, vsvevg will be published from the United States of America.

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