The Sailor
by Ian Curtress
Waking slowly,
gathered thoughts.
So snug reluctant to stir but then slight
movement and lapping sounds
sharpen mind with anticipation of the
coming day.
Will winds favour me or offer friendly
challenge which I will meet.
Surely mental and physical skills are the
making of this field
Who will win, who will yield.
Breakfast taken with unhealthy haste,
tell yourself no time to waste.
Tide just right so up on deck time to
complete safety check, then engine
sweetly humming, finely greased. Now with
care, warps released.
Soon I can hoist the sails, heart rate
jumps, never fails.
Excitement and anticipation as on first
time, when I knew this sport was mine
The wind joins in as sails unfurled and
once again my happy World
Salty spray strikes my face and for
moment stings, thoughts of warm cabin
below
weakens my resolve.
This is not my profession. I have no need
to experience discomfort so why?
So many have tried to put into words that
which cannot be fully answered.
Is it a personal challenge? No. Is it to
prove something? No.
It is the sheer joy and exhilaration, the
sense of freedom. The feeling of being in
tune with Nature.
Yes. Nature can be volatile but makes up
for it with indescribable tranquility.
As with every emotion each compliments
the other.
So although Nature is requiring I focus
my mind at this time I know that soon she
will allow me to continue and in her own
way say sorry by sharing with me a
happiness which only a Seafarer would
understand. |
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