Sailing Poem #1

I have saltwater in my veins.

I feel drawn to the ocean.

I hate living on land.

I sleep well at night in a berthing over rocking waves and surf.

The wind whistles in the shrouds.
The luff of the sail vibrates with power.

The weather decks are cool to the touch.

The wind pulls, pushes and packs a punch with random gusts.

The water is marbled and blue.

Waves crest with white.

Spray and foam washes the hull.

The smell of sea warmed by the sun fills my breath.

The tide is running at me hard.

The wind hitting the sails even harder.

“I am really moving now!” so I thought.

Then I realized that I'm “Roller skating on a treadmill!”

And when the wind dies and the water is calm

the sails limp and napping shade me from the afternoon glare.

The tidal stream pulls the keel in favor of its direction

and peace settles into my soul.

Until a power-boater cruises by at 40 knots and pisses me off!

The boat pitches and heaves violently in raging wake!

The sails are slapping and snapping with a limp thrashing

And the tiller struggles against the bungies holding it on course.

“Thoughtless and ignorant, suffer the God damned shitters!”

My throbbing and salty heart churns white hot foam.

Awkward and ashamed I digress.

There's a momma seal and her baby watching me with dubiously disturbed curiosity.

The powerboat is gone down to the other side of the inlet.

The water returns to normal and my mood soon matches.

The sails sag back to slumber in that summer heat and

Life on board returns to its previous state.

Time passes slowly on a sailboat.

There is no hurry to get home.

When I live on it I'm already there!

Too bad the shitters in the powerboat are in a hurry, wishing their life away.

So to those ignoramuses I say “Live and let live—Forgive forget!”

My life will be much longer than theirs.

My hands are not on a throttle.

I can enjoy the quiet and reflect.

Since life is richer when time is standing still.

I can glide on the water in the calm.

I can skip the waves in spirited joy.

My freedom will last forever.

And when I die I want to be burned.

Don't bury me in the dirt.

Don't put me in a bag or a box or stuff me like an angry bear.

Just throw my ashes in the blue water and feed me to the fish.

. . . . so I can reincarnate as a hammer head. . . . .

. . . . . . . and eat a power-boater. . . . . .