Belonging
Being in the group is the ultimate Good
An Elegy of Sorts
What is this,
belonging?
Some say life itself,
others, that we make
too much of it.
Give me space,
grant me release,
but not so far away
you cannot pull
me back in place.
Do I depend on you,
or you hold fast to me,
what do we call this
most particular,
common fate?
Our ship turns this way
and then rolls that,
with no one
at the rudder,
no captain.
Sails tied tight
against the mast,
the winds blow
where they will,
with no reward.
And we pretend
to know where lies
this place that we
are searching, which is
no longer in our sight.
Might it be best
to fail this test,
to break away
and search alone
for purpose,
To cut loose
from the ropes
of hoping in
our rightful
destination,
To sail, adrift
in a one-man skiff,
Free from such
endless
wandering!
Would I be lost,
or could I find
another course
to travel,
alone?
Should I remain,
restrained and bound,
to keep the company
I kept,
it does not matter
If we should fail,
we might then know
that we had met
our common end
together.
Thank you for taking the time to read! I deeply appreciate your support.
Copyright © 2025, Robert G. Metivier. All Rights Reserved.
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I really liked it. Lately I've been sending your poems to my brother. He's an actor, loves poetry, but he's not subscribed to Substack. He likes how and what you write about.