Wednesday, March 6, 2013

My Ship

My Ship

Sometimes my ship is big
And sometimes it's small.
Sometimes I feel big
And sometimes I feel small.

But no matter what:
It's my ship.

And whether it's small
or tall.


.... and I make the call.

The winds behind the sails on my ship of life has shifted. It's funny how relationships have a tendancy to do that. What once was is no longer, so now I'm free to go where I want. It really should be that way regardless, but what the heck.  The winds are blowing my ship south to Argentina. This is a summer of preparation.

No llores por mi Argentina