I rather like the sea; her shifting moods
Leave nothing certain, nothing that is sure,
The stillness forms but does not long remain,
Each wave from day to day will not endure.
Yet if you know her rules and play her games,
You stay afloat and come at last to land:
It’s just a case of caution and of wit,
Of knowing where and when to take your stand.

Life is like that too; she has her rules,
Her etiquette, unspoken but observed,
Those who play by those rules may yet succeed,
And those who break them get what is deserved.
But I play by myself; I see no need
To let another player know my mind,
I lay the Trumps in private solitaire
And never tell the secrets that I find.

There is one final rule; there are no rules,
No fixed commandments to which we all bow,
Merely a set of guidelines; if you wish,
Then bend or break them, as your whims allow.
The highest level of this private game
Is writing your own rules with which to play:
The highest stake your life; the prize the world.
You have your cards; there’s nothing more to say.