by LJ Frank
The brown-green water lapped up against the side of the boat and I watched dead fish float by and thought of the cycles of life….as further out there was another larger fish that appeared to be swimming with ease and leapt over a white cap while closer in a seagull dove down from above to catch a meal.
I looked over at my rain jacket with the edge of a dollar bill sticking out of the pocket and asked what is money but pieces of paper manufactured for an economic philosophy to justify an unequal existence, and nearby I watched an old man hold on to a fishing rope with his bare hands that started to bleed from the pull of the deep, perhaps to catch a dinner to meet the menu of someone else’s expectations.
And the waters continue to rise, as some people have found themself being in the wrong place at the wrong time and, soldiers, mercenaries and conscripts fight endless battles for the sake of someone else’s adventurism, and among a child’s and an older person’s mangled bodies, their invisible God shakes his head in despair, and so l watched the sun rise and descend over the waves before getting the cancer removed from my head, and I thought of the ancient words – beware of too much of a good thing.
The fabric of conscience is threaded in multiple colors and I recall a passing sailor on the bridge of his yacht grin and nod his head as if to say enjoy what you have when you have it, and I caught a glimpse of the boat’s name, Sunshine, as it voyaged out the harbor. And I utter to myself, so what is new, the author of Ecclesiastes is right after all.