My sail boat is small but the ocean is large.
Journey has been turbulent and goalless,
The purpose of the odyssey is unknown.
Life is a chaos beckoning a dream.
Mother fed me on life’s potentials.
It appeared an orderly enterprise,
Where input determined output.
And the grandeur of life was un-diminishable.
Visionaries missed to see
That there was a cocoon called world,
Built by man to protect him,
But which ends in imprisoning and degrading him.
Man proposes but world disposes.
A man yearns to go to the other shore –
To make the world irrelevant to him,
Even though the journey is studded with heartbreaks.
But before I reach the other shore,
I want to give back to life equivalent of joy
That I have taken from it.
Suffern, New York, Sept. 25, 2014
Note: This is a revision of the poem by the same title
that was published on June 16, 2013.