To Oneself

Star child:
on the shore, the winds of change
wash you from a depressed slumber.

Quickly -
gather the flotsam of your former life:
the planks of shattered dreams is your foundation;
pull your hair out - these are your roots -
use the strands as rope, bind the
planks together; remove your skin
from finger to bone - use it as your sails.

Never mind your hairless, skinless husk -
push this raft into open water and
command the Atlantic into it.

Look to the heavens - count the stars,
you know the way in your heart -
it has no name but a feeling.