I am useless, fool, most stupid of them all:
I am Curse, and hide, and sometimes never try:
And often (too often) just feeble, small,
And seldom ‘push and shove’, and question, ‘Why?’
There now, that’s me – the seasons seldom see
Much change in this boatful of meanderings:
Stop and watch now how I crash in the lee
Of some fierce lifewind that’s chanced to fling
Itself around the rocks of all that’s certain;
How on a good day with steady breeze
I rush along in one blind run:
Marvel at this craft’s frailty, how pleased
It is to survive all storms, how estranged
From subtler truths, how – apparently – deranged…….
15/7/00
This sonnet (well, nearly sonnet – it was one of the first I wrote) imagines life as being a journey in a little boat, pushed around by the winds. And the essence of it all is unchanging stupidity and blindness, crashing in response to life’s uncertainties, blindly following good fortune when it arrives, and ridiculously pleased with surviving it all.
