It seems that life is as a ship at sea.
The energy levels rise, crest, and fall as waves.
Sometimes in a frenzy, the emotions pitch the boat back and forth,
Eventually calming to a gentle rocking again.
Sometimes land comes into sight.
And sometimes all is adrift with no hope of rescue.
It is a constant struggle to stay aloft.
A struggle not to fall into the undertow.
A struggle against raiding ships only after your goods.
Then there are days when the sun shines and the wind softly blows.
And on those days everything is perfect as headway is made.
Alas, on the high seas those perfect days are few.
But for a port or a harbor to anchor at.
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