The Far Shore

gently,
on the softest breeze,
a dandelion fluff
floats directly to me,
skimming the surface of the lake.

from within the spokes,
a spider 
salutes me.

she stands,
a hand on a mast,
captaining her life.

we recognize each other, 
sharing a moment of eye-contact,
peer-to-peer,
​
before she sails away.

I am certain
this spider
is steering her fluff-boat,
trusting life,
and her own ingenuity,
to deliver her to the far shore.

we vagabonds know
life itself
awaits 
on the far shore.

we captains know,
to reach the far shore, 

we only need
a make-shift raft and
to improvise

when to 
steer
               and
                       when to 
                                           float 
                                                       on a ripple.