After Hibernation

This forms part of a series of poems I'll be posting this year, when I intend to make drastic changes in my lifestyle. This first week has been tough; make of this what you will.

Beasts don't recover their passions during winter...
They dream.

I am a forlorn sailor at sea
Afraid of acting, afraid to attempt to save
This very life that is dreadful to me

If this ocean is my winter,
And this sails are my convictions:

It is endless, and they are torn.

We simply cannot go on,

And on,

Thinking we're like beasts in nature,
Like things, like plants, like trees
We burn, yes, we burn
And we, one day, stop burning

But they flow with time, and cycle
On and on, an endless song
Seasons do not matter, really,
To machines

But can't I, please, see this is spring?
The springs burst with joy and laugher,
But I weep?

The endless sea becomes an avalanche:
I cannot escape myself, my feeling

It hurts!

I am ruled by my mind, at war with itself
I drink the water
I drink the salt and all
I think I don't mind to suffer

But not anymore...