my little boat

My little boat poem by steven james humphreys

down the stream I go

as I drift down and down

I look up at the great trees

and they smile as the wind whips up

its fury

and somehow as in a dream

but this is not a dream

the boat guides itself down this stream like it knows exactly where it’s heading

I’m in unfamiliar territory sitting here in my tiny boat looking down

looking back looking from side to side

and I still don’t know exactly where it is I’m going

but somehow things are beginning to seem more and more familiar

the further I travel down this stream

a map I do not have but nature’s angels surround me

on all sides comforting me assuring me

as it seems I’ve been flowing down this stream all my life

and where the water ends I know it will soon become a lake

and there will be a house way on the other side with a light on

and smoke coming out of its chimney so that I will know where to paddle my little boat

to a dock on the shore line and finally hitch it to a post

and somehow I know there are old friends inside this house waiting for my arrival looking out its windows

but as I am wondering if I really do know these people

it seems on the other hand I actually do know them all very well

I am in the middle of the lake now

and as I paddle further I see someone waiting on the dock waving and I wave back

they yell something and I can tell it’s a woman’s voice

and she waits

and she waits

and I look down at my hand

and see my ring

and then it all comes back to me

that all this time I was going home.

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