The Silver Sea
I launch upon a seamless sea
Without a compass, chart.
Till found, I sail forth foolishly,
Survive by guile or art.
A shadow’s all there is of me,
A speck when far away,
On ocean that goes endlessly
From days into a day.
The silver sea was here before
My little ship set sail.
Most men with canvas or an oar
Edged forward but to fail.
Beyond horizon, tale is told,
Believed as true by some,
That silver sea turns into gold
And hope does truth become.
And those few say there is a map
That tells them where they are,
That leads them safely from a trap,
And guides them to a star.
I wonder, wonder if it’s true
As I look at the sea.
If not, my shadow, at adieu,
Is all that’s left of me.
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photo by A-K Rehse at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mfmqMX2/boat
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* I don’t wonder if it’s true. I know it is.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.
Lovely meter and rhyme, Dennis. And I love the way you write in the voice of those in the world who don’t know for sure — but hope so. And I’m so glad you put the addendum to say that you do know.
Thanks! I stayed in the voice of how virtually all begin, that of not knowing. But I wanted to be sure that others know that I know.
Very good – great last stanza.