Lost.

Crest peaking over
the horizon;
Much too far out
there.

Silent, the wave
burns that horizon;
Much too far out
there to care.

Kuan Yin's compassionate
gaze pierces through
that haze,
More than slightly, lightly
in a daze.

Hit the crest and over
the other side;
Much too taken, holding
on for the ride.

Lost, that soul, burning
in the sun;
Burning, yearning, and ever
on the run...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
1/27/2013