A ship of crazy fools
sails out to sea
destined for odd adventures
& escapades that ordinary souls will not fathom.
Sitting in dry berths
looking out portals
these foolish souls try to forget
the arid land of sorrow.
It is as if floating away is some antidote.
The sea makes us forget that time
is not something final.
& endless waves
balance sorrows & joys;
each wave another year
each tide another decade.
Growing older on the sea
is not growing older at all
& there is an eternity to be embraced
when the land-based rules of convention
are forsaken for the tidal dictates of invention.
Sea worthy knowledge will free us
from the wrinkles of time.
At what age
& on what day
can we leap from our berths of comfort & chronology
and dive head first into this ocean of biology?
Can we swim before we know
that we'll never know it all?
At what precious stage
does dawn become day
& day dusk?
& how deep does the sea need to be
before we are ready
to leave our berths of dry comfort...
before we are ready to swim?
To Kersade Poetry Index Plate
Anna Marie Kersade- At Sea
Copyright © 2000 by Anna Marie Kersade
Published: September 22, 2000