A Paddle

A Paddle
It is a work of art, we use to guide
Our solitary craft, through
Silent narrow channels,
And drift us through our reveries.
It moves us over the Silvery
Shining pond, where only the loon,
Will call to us, to thrill us
With its haunting sound.

It helps us glide through mists
Of morning dew, and thoughts;
To let us wander, in our trail
And forget what is left behind.

Its shape is solid, reassuring,
While the fluid water under bow,
Lifts us gently, in time, with
The gentle waves below.

A paddle gives us Power
To surge ahead and rise
Above the crests, and conquer,
Then glide the valley just beyond.

This paddle is a part of us,
Responding to our pulse.
To move ahead, then fall behind
Exhilarating as we reach towards

Our destination, yet afar,
And settle into cadence, and thrill
Of each successive stroke,
Our campsite thus approaching.

This paddle is our escape
From things which can oppress us,
To help us get away from all,
Only to renew our soul.

Peter Köhl
August 31,1995

© Copyright 2007 Peter Köhl