One’s Ship Comes In

One’s Ship Comes In
by Joe Paddock
I swear
my way now will be
to continue without
plan or hope, to accept
the drift of things, to shift
from endless effort
to joy in, say,
that robin, plunging
into the mossy shallows
of my bird bath and
splashing madly till
the air shines with spray.
Joy it will be, say,
in Nancy, pretty in pink
and rumpled T-shirt,
rubbing sleep from her eyes, or
joy even in
just this breathing, free
of fright and clutch, knowing
how one’s ship comes in
with each such breath.

0 thoughts on “One’s Ship Comes In

  1. you call this a ‘debbie downer’? i got so much hope out of it, accepting each moment for what its worth, come what may, and all that jazz. not going against the current, but flowing with it.

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