Thrumming
beneath my bare feet upon the bowsprit, Charlotte Jean hummed
resonant with function, well trimmed, sailing herself while I
euphoric stood in awe.
A
moment recalled. Sensing there is some new change happening within me
now. Tectonic, ineluctable, yet silent; moving beneath consciousness.
Under the din and otherwise chaos of ordinary time.
Had
I fallen into the bow wake, Bruce, the captain sleeping, I crew,
would never have known as she sailed on. Me unconscious then drown in
her wake, would have been fine with she, he and I.
And
all will be well.
Be
silent and listen as I must, both to myself and her, time will reveal
what time wants of us.
Peace
sonorous to Charlotte Jean's snoring through the Atlantic pervades
and what peace I am now prevails.
And
all will be well.
For
both of them, those two women I love, deeply. No longer insanely
greedy for love. The love I have is all any life can ask; The Master
of The Dance is in charge.
Wind
hums the mainsail
Peace
beyond all understanding or telling
scintillating
cross the sleeping sea's respiration
and
all manner of things shall be well.
130501
20:39 MDT thrumming
©
2013 by Jack Spratt – All Rights Reserved
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