My Accustomed World

My accustomed world is disappearing
Even as a novel one comes into view,
Both processes disorienting me
So I'm unfamiliar to myself

I lose my bearings which yet reminds me
That deepest of mappings is fantastic,
Hence there is freedom to lift play anchor
and let fragile vessel voyage far shores

Because every loss is liberation,
new breezes bring scent of fresh enchantment,
what's most enchanting is the chance of change,
that variance that abides just the same

I twist to nip at the tale that I tell
Knowing I consume myself in its swell