navigating

so she simply gets into a canoe
and paddles her heart to balance
between rock and stream, between
two banks, several currents wildly

asking for her canoe to direct itself

out of the clogged mainstream
out of the waterlogged driftwood
out of the troubling undertow-
a nation underfoot and overhead
overheard and underfed

a nation based on selfish greed
a nation composed of souls
who can't agree in polls
that kindness is all we need
being pulled out to sea, without

compass, moss or map- curious
just how spirit sails to its own celebration
without the monkey in the middle
distracting the simple sounds
oars slicing the turbid sea

mind unwashed from media
there's a quiet place- far
from lonely- a place
driven by the magician's
madness to know:

our selves, the leaves,
flowers, stars, sun,
the moon,
the magic of trees,, interfused


words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '16