A Bike with No Chain

A bike with no chain, and boat with no oars.

I am the willing enemy of the wind and waves.

Kicking, pulling, pushing

Days, Weeks, Months

A glimmer of purpose on the horizon.  A moment of destiny disguised in coincidence.

Chasing, shouting, drowning…dying.

Mind… Heart… Pushing and pulling.  Tearing.  One calls forward, the other calls back, one calls back, the other, forward.

Weathered, worn, weighted.  A familiar sense, but this…Hell will seem cold

Survival, logic, principal, truth, love?  One in the same?  Meeting at the same end?

On my chainless bike and in my oarless boat, with my feet and hands to chase the probable illusion that exists on the horizon.  However long it takes, however much change, however much  ache because she is worth everything.

She is my chain and my oars.