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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2091817
by Dave
Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2091817
a journey to whatever comes next.
The beauty of being me derives
from the tangy taste of a ripe sunrise,
accompanied by the color crescendo
of Beethoven's Fifth rising over
yon horizon to herald
another nautical adventure,
as I sail the sea of life.

Tacking against the wind,
hauling the sheets as timbers gnash and groan
when storms are brewing in the South,
my vessel sways upon the ocean's gray rolling hills.
Heave the lines, heave ho!

When the tempest
of foggy cataracts, thumping transmission,
and debt distress finally subsides,
a lemon drop ray of sunshine peeks through,
and I shift the tiller of my little yawl
to sail a reach before a following sea
with forty feet of waterline making way nicely
on a downhill run to forever.

The albatross and the whale frolic alongside,
as the golden orb continues its stroll across the sky
and begins a descent to make way for the next phase
in a glorious splash of purple, red and gold.

The twilight, like the horizon, is nothing more than
a gateway to the next adventure,
where the moon and the stars commence
their dance upon celestial stage,
while ocean rhythms serenade my soul,

and constellations mark the path
to help me navigate the next leg
of the cosmic journey
that is the beauty of being me.



Author's notes:

1. 33 lines of Free Verse poetry.
2. A little background on the yawl: http://www.yawls.net/





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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2091817