As Unseen As Tomorrow

Like a fisherman I
cast my net
into the vast sea of thought,
hopeful as a clear morning
waking from dreams of abundance.
But the sea that offers up
the secrets of its depth and darkness
does not release and give
its sacred treasures easily.
It first has demands....
and the net hurled
into the wrong place
returns empty to the dreamers dismay,
and the mighty musings of a clear morning
can be aborted into the storm
of a turbulent afternoon as unseen
as tomorrow.
So I cast my net
into the streaming O of
thought and breath
and hope the vapors pour forth
the fullness of my words.