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~ The Voyage ~ and ~ Vessel ~

Updated on March 4, 2014


The Voyage

In moonlit glimmer on sea-soaked sand,

She rests there, broken…throbbing, really…

For failed journeys,

Shattered dreams, and dashed passions…

She has come to rest, the end of a voyage

Which came much too soon…

Here, on the sands of nowhere…

Where broad-bodied women place themselves strategically, intentionally,

Hoping for a clearer view, or perhaps a personal tour

Confirming to themselves pre-established notions

Conceived in their ice-castle fantasies.

The seagulls and onlookers wander her halls

Vultures, all

Picking at every detail, missing the breath

Of every timeless memory…

Never hearing the laughter,

Never drawing close to the heart the memory of painful tears…

Vultures, picking amongst the rubble and the wreckage…

Ladies, this vessel set sail one glorious day

With the sun full in the sky, and the air clean and deep to breathe…

When all in its midst

Were answering the call of hopes and dreams,

Wishes and desires,

Aspirations, and joys…

And not long into the journey,

Memories of voyages past called out more clearly…

Passions and Fears were so loudly audible…

The seas grew huge. Endless, in fact.

And frighteningly, disparagingly dark.

And so, to flee the oncoming violent waves

And the unforgiving ocean

The voyage came to an end…

And it rests today,

Here, on the very edge, the shore if you will…

What should have been a safe harbor,

Left her broken, and unworthy.

Sail again? Oh, perhaps she will.

Sail with her? Perhaps it will be you.

But to endure the depths of the oceans,

And the passions of the storms,

Your own measure must be countless.

Your will must be more undeniable than the very oceans

Out to destroy…

And your courage

Must be such

To drown the ghostly haunts of voyages past.

For it is true, this vessel knows the seas.

She has not rested because she did not know,

She did not become disabled because she had no choice.

She knew well and chose carefully.

She shipwrecked in shallow waters, clearly,

Knowing what lay beneath her tender bow…

Sail well, strong of heart.

Be not dismayed by what you think you see,

Believe only in what you truly know.

Shut out the voices which will rattle your windows,

And will rock your quiet journey with a frightening passion,

So much more than a lull…

Shut those out.

Answer only to the call to which you sailed once in the beginning…

The call of hopes, and dreams,

Passions, loves and joy

The call of souls in need,

And souls in response.

Sail well.

The night is quickly falling.



The Vessel

She is there…

That little pinhead you see

So far in the distance she has no identity

And has no meaning

But she is powerful

She is glorious

As she sails through the waters

Today, the voyage is gentle.

Today, the sun is high in the skies

And the gulls soar

Their cries

Authors all, of a well worn book

A story told

A million times

By a million poets

Every line, different

But the message,

Hauntingly the same…

These waters are not always forgiving

There are days--

There are nights

When the waves

Come with such force

Such fierce fury

They crash her boundaries

And flood her companionways

And she braces herself

Against the siege

“Sails to the gales, girl” …

When the wind hits

She will sit motionless

Frozen there

Dead center in the storm

Perhaps pushed back

But just a little

Aaah, her strength withstands--

And stares into the eye of the demon

With all her worth

With all her majesty

she is yar

She was built for storms like these

She longs for the harbor

But the depth of her prowess

Demands the ocean

Screams out for the storm

What would it feel like

To sail at ebb tide?

Oh, but only for a season

Too soon

Her bow would long

To race head on

Into the biggest threats

Of teeming storms

To renew her once again

--to savor—

the sweet nectar

Of victory

She knows

One day she will not return

The storm will break her

The seas will swallow her

There will be no trace

No memory

That she sailed at all

But today,

She welcomes the challenge

The barter of the cheetah

And the zebra

She will eat well tonight

And float atop the oceans’ waters

That pinhead

You can hardly see

And don’t even begin to know.


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