Salt of the Sea
A seeker of faith caste in paths strewn |
Reading charts of the stars and the moon,
Captain glanced at the sprit and the sail
Whilst his circle of friends feared each gail.
Waves crashed like empowering words
Of a prayer on the wings of the birds.
Spring winds filled doomed sails on his ship
Like whispers pressing unopened lips.
Destination claimed dibs on his soul.
His dreams would collect their due toll,
An arrangement explorers know best
Though it stops not a one from his quest.
On the windowpane of time
Fallen eyes can only see grime.
Sea salt lies gritty and cold
To the touch of a widow grown old.
And a fatherless child still silently yearns
For a ship that shall never return.
By Peggy Paris
© 2016 Peggy Paris
(All rights reserved)