Quiet,
too –
sun far
as far
as you
hiding
near craggy
shores
where
deep
pools of sea water
dot the landscape:
barren
wind slapped
abandoned
but by the
hardiest
meanest
wildest
marauders
warriors
sea wise
men,
who fear
little
of the dark
ominous
clouds
and
laugh
at the sight
of land –
any,
knowing
full well
the real
test is
far out
at sea
where frigate birds
glide
days on end
skies
opening
into
seas,
dolphins
leading
in the wake
jumping
showing
the crimson
flush
of love,
their bellies
high
in the air
round
and round
in and out
up
down down down
up again
so free
immune
to gravity.
At the helm
bearded
shirtless
face to the wind
he charts
passage
to some
unknown
destination
where he once
found solace
so long ago
where women
smelled like saffron
and jasmine,
mournful songs
filling the air
in a soft language
he’d never known
but in his heart
understood,
hands
bruised
rope lashed
exhausted
he journeyed on
into days
one following
another
under star lit skies
mad
drunk
deluded
by deafening
siren songs
maddening
dizzying
till
he woke
lulled
by gentle breezes
and warm
tropical sun
and nestled
in his beard
the tiniest
of stowaways
had found safe
passage,
its feathers
ruffed
in the warmth of his breath,
its tiny heart
beating
a song
of freedom
and long lost
love.