The Ocean: Brethren

“We are all sailing down the stream of time which we can neither create nor direct. All we can do is steer with (more or less) experience and skill.”

Broken steps litter the journey towards what one feels might be salvation. Unopposed the stream of people finds the path of least resistance and culminates to form what can only be deemed a reservoir of fear and hope. The reservoir leaks streams which join forces to form a river that grows wider and drives forward faster. The river has many tributaries… leaks from the reservoirs of cliques, countries, groups, the human race. Not only do smaller streams flowing down the staircases of the corporate ‘west’ contribute but so do the streams that gush forward like the very liquid gold that the ‘non-corporate’ drill. It was a movement. Slipping and streaming. Inertia was on their side.

Twists. And. Turns.

Hope, yes it forms, but fear keeps it temperate as it spews out into the hinterland that has no land. The ocean is a funny place. The twists and turns are no more. You find brethren. You find yourself.