The storm arrived viciously with next to no warning.
Just a brief smell of foreboding like the initial salt spray
tossed into the aire then heavily thudding, mixing in with the ocean.
There in the middle rather than the beginning
the tall ship had to tack her sails then trim.
No time to reflect as the storm wailed
yet reaction would determine survival
as the tall ship creaked with her age
struggling to stay afloat.
What of weather reports some asked and the response
"none given" in fact total disconnect behind land, shore and ocean.
Yet the very core of the ship instinctively knew
brushed aside for the
desires of her deck to sail into the night to reach days of sunny ports
friendly waving from afar.
Small cracks became a bit more as the storm raged uncontrollably battering
her stern and her aft
some pieces of railing were sent hurling into the
inky dark abyss that had risen up angrily for what.
But the ship loved the sea
in fact the sea alone
knew the ship's heartbeat.
The sea never knows later why the waves were churned high.
It only knows it was displaced and swallowed anything in its face.
The ship was not to be done in this go round for its destination had not
yet arrived nor the time had not yet come.
There is no courage in a ship and a sea that does not involve you and even me.
Perhaps the gentler waves as the sunsets after the storm are a reminder
that there is life that is lived through the process with connections made
and bridges built that more might cross to be free.
The storm was not the point, the sea and the ship were in need of one another
for their purposes in their lives so either they could cooperate together or struggle against
one another with potential for greater peril.
Oh for the sea and the ship to know that beyond the storm there is always and forever
the love of mother and son. The love that wins no matter what.
The ship loved the sea.
The sea loved the ship.
Both needed one another
to understand
their plight as much
as their love.
