The Ocean’s Song


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                                     Painting by Ivan Aivazovsky

I.
Sitting on the bay, watching the ships go by;
Where they are headed, I don’t know, yet
My soul yearns to be likewise swept away
With the outgoing tide, the undulating waves.
Beneath blustery clouds let the extended bellies
Of white sails carry me across new horizons.
Beneath the crested waves, the mermaids sing
Siren chants of, “Come with me. Come with me!”
The baritone bellow of a ship’s horn
Blasts out, “Come with me, Come with me!”

II.
Icy winds caress my weathered face,
Each wizened line etched like a nautical map
Directing me toward tomorrow’s fortunes.
The salted air fills my aching lungs with a
Hope I have not known since childhood.
In my shoreline reverie, I am carried across
Blue-green oceans kissing distant coastlines.
“Turn, screws, turn,” let the waters churn
Beneath your tired and weathered hull
But do not leave me dry standing here.

III.
I yearn to drink the white foam of stormy seas
Beneath a blanket of heavenly constellations.
I do not care today for tomorrow’s sorrows
So long as I can castaway in the iron belly
Of a eastward steaming long boat.
I am now lost in the maelstrom of indifference
Upon these sandy shores, and my eyes
Are filled with the tears of a sailor’s regret
For having missed the outward tides.
“Carry me out. Carry me out!” and let the
Fish one day dine upon my happy bones.

 

4 thoughts on “The Ocean’s Song

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