There’s an old saying in the night markets of Tokyo
“A frog in a well does not know the great sea”
I never really understood what it meant
Until I found myself wandering the backstreets of Kabukichō
Looking for a reason not to go home
There’s something otherworldly about the place
A neon heaven calling to wayward souls
Like moths to a flame
On the way to a hostess bar
I cut through an alleyway
To see a parliament of black-suited men
Looming over a prone figure
The poor bastard had been beaten to a pulp
But he wasn’t who I was focusing on
One man stood apart from the group
He was the shortest among them
Yet somehow stood the tallest
Eyes the colour and hardness of flint
Stared in my direction
I’ve seen all kinds of stares in my life
Good, bad, happy, sad,
This man had none of them
His was a fathomless look
The kind you might expect from God
I have no idea how long I was standing there
Dumbstruck and exposed
But all it took was a simple nod from the man
A free pass to forget what I’d witnessed
And the spell was broken
The frog met the sea that night
Turns out wells are pretty damn comfortable
Nice. I still choose the sea, or at least a big lake!
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The sea always wins for me too.
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Great poem.
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Thank you!
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Full of wonderment, danger, awe, and escape from maybe a depth too deep this time around. But yes, something bigger than the well now 😊
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Ps – pinned to my Travel board in Pinterest 😊
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Glad you enjoyed reading and thanks!
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