The Sailor's Backyard

I'm sailing a magnificent boat,
cruising the seven seas.
I smile at the world and
know they are looking at me.
The gods above bend down,
and bless me with a kiss
of sunset moons and honey skies,
of earth and heaven's bliss.

A touch of salt upon my skin,
a ray of light to know that
the way of passage before me
will let the winds to grow.
What force there is to push ahead
letting sails of hope maintain
tears of glad that quickly crash
upon my canvas stain.

And on we go, through a maze,
holding on to hope and trust.
This magic vessel will swim
with all its rotting, bottom rust.
Mountains of dew and thin breath,
Holy glory all a blur,
which way did we go today?
I must say I'm not so sure.

But why does it really matter?
The sun this day does shine.
For all the water of this world;
The Sailor's backyard is mine!
The current and the curl of wet,
wave hello as I come,
and pound against my humble bow
like a rhythmic Indian drum.

The time has come, I do say,
to pray for fond farewells,
for the deep Ghost Ocean call
does pull me to its swells.
So I leave with this: listen close
to sounds of sun on soggy shores,
for they might whisper in your ear:
The Sailor's backyard is also yours!

Jennifer
2000