on a wooden stool,
in the light of a burning candle,
tossed by waves,
uncertain of his bearings,
blood in his eyes and fire in his bones...
baptized in a raging storm.
...another wave breaks.
the salt of the sea burns clean
memories of days lost...floating.
a man, old and hollowed by the sea
thinking this is what he was made to be...flooding.
guided by waves, pushed by the wind.
dreaming of the moment when he last kissed the shore,
but you can be sure he's awake on the ship;
awake and alive in the tension between two worlds.
fall into wind,
sink into the sea.
hold the picture of what used to be.
reach at the stars who were once so faithful.