Sailing, with a Salt’n Pepper Sailor of off and on renown
I am shaken to the core by the clearest understanding,
of why we are what we are, to the other.
For one is hard pressed to overlook
the human shipwrecks we often leave in our wake,
in the pursuit of self-serving romance.
Floating, in a sea-water bubble-bath behind his true love, Jezebel
I am deeply aware of self and surroundings,
and laugh inwardly at the ironies of this life.
For one is hard pressed to deny one’s true nature
and relative un-importance,
in the middle of a salt-watery vastness.
Pounding, as the prow of his vessel meets the lumpy sea
I g(r)asp at the why, of THIS relationship,
as opposed to one of our culture’s norm and making.
For as affection must not be confused with ownership
so infidelity not with freedom,
and I languish no more in a union of others’ choosing.
Learning, the literal and metaphorical ropes alongside this(hu)man, in his element I am thunderstruck and blindsided,
with a deeply resonating perspective, of my own met and unmet needs.
For one is hard pressed to disregard the tutelage
of a life’s worth of evidence,
contradicting the common view.
Rolling, the hot silent tears down my cheeks
happy though wistful,
as I stand at the helm while the Sailor rests.
For one is hard pressed to spurn one’s calling to self and freedom
when it is so beautifully modeled,
by a Master of that art.
Counting, as the numbers on my personal odometer
climb toward an undetermined end point,
I remove the next vestige of a life never mine.
For as 3 years short of 60 register in my mind
so the realization that I owe me different,
than that which the box provides.
July 19, 2018
Photos and writing: All Rights Reserved.