The boat shudders against this force.
Thirty feet the rolling water comes against the bow.
Now again I hold the wheel, chance the wave,
Sliding down with a sickening sound,
Tossed hard up, careening down.
After the light I may be safe and sound.

Cold, cold this haggard wind.
Fail nothing now. Rolling up, hissing down,
Flesh against wood and the sickening sound,
Holding this craft against the shudder,
Hands bloodied from this rough rudder.
After the light I can be safe and sound.

The chance was taken, but no option ever given.
As they in my past did, so do I:
To sea to fish, to master whatever I see.
So to this storm-wracked sea I go with prayer
To see again the land and family.
After the light I will be safe and sound.



© 2016