“Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings.” —W.H. Auden
“I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry: that is, prose = words in their best order; poetry = the best words in the best order.” –Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I’m sure my writing falls somewhere in Mr. Coleridge’s description of prose: “words in their best order.” But that being said, it also falls somewhere in W. H. Auden’s description. A “clear expression of mixed feelings.” Therefore, I’m going to say that what I write is sort of like stories written in prose. The following one describes my perception of the sea during a very windy night.
The Sea And A Stormy Night
How does one describe the sea; it’s so boundless and filled with mystery?
I spent many years on the sea, which are deeply etched in my history.
In this little poem I’m going to try and describe a little of what I saw,
Some were enough to cause wonder and some wrapped me in awe.
Most look at the sea and perceive a large body of water and no more,
But when I look upon it I see hardly any water at all, not even its shore.
I see something which I’m almost unable to describe in words of prose.
I see majesty, beauty, mystery and spirit all wrapped in love of those.
People see the surface, sometimes smooth, other times a raging hell,
But I look beyond those surface traits most everyone knows so well.
They’re simply part of the surface, the water, the wind and the roll.
Down into the depths my imagination leads, into its pulsating soul.
Here there’s none of that surface ruckus filled with spray, wind and foam.
This is a place of quiet beauty which myriads of species call home.
It’s a metaphor representing our own experience we erroneously call life,
Where the surface is sometimes smooth but more often full of strife.
I’ve sailed the surface of the sea watching beauty only my eyes behold,
Before I learned to let my imagination roam beyond the horizon so bold.
As with everything we experience there’s a lot more than meets the eye.
So much mystery in its depths and more beyond where it meets the sky.
I’ve learned a lot from the sea, so full of tidal currents, white caps and foam.
Night falling upon it taught me to visualize another world as my home.
It also taught me how quickly this physical experience can end.
I helplessly watched one night as the sea separated me from a friend.
But it’s a beautiful soul with its eternal surface traits rolling within its reach,
Its waves building to crescendo then breaking and crashing upon the beach.
It can be a glorious sight to behold; there’s nothing quite so fair
As huge waves breaking upon the shore and slinging white foam in the air.
But the beauty quickly changes when all can be seen is a heavy grayish sky,
Storm clouds gathering on the horizon and you hoping they’ll pass you by.
Sometimes they do, other times they hit you with raging force so nigh,
The surface then turns into a raging mass of towering waves so high.
The wind howls, the waves reach their peak and break, churning all about,
This is when you realize there’s nothing else to trust, but God and your boat.
The storm reaches a certain force your experience tells you not to fight,
The sea anchor deployed, you release the power, and hope it’ll be alright.
The sea is so tremendous and the boat so small as it sinks into the crest,
Then rises to meet the wave as it comes breaking and mixing with the rest.
But the sea’s size matters not if the boat is handled right,
Which means to let it go with the flow rather than stand and fight.
The boat rolls, pitches and splashes all through the day and the night,
Then relief sneaks in as the wind slowly diminishes and darkness turns light.
Boat and crew bid the night farewell and joyfully welcome the morn.
Damage is surveyed and everything looks well just a bit more worn.
Now it’s back to the routine after the cleanup and all checks out.
The crew scurrying to make sure things are ship-shape all about.
The swells are still rolling and they’ll continue for a couple days,
But I and the crew are familiar with their storm-caused ways.
During the stormy night there may have been some prayers and wishing,
Now all that must be left behind as we steam back to the fishing.
The wind has pushed us from the fishing spot by twenty-five nautical miles,
Steaming back gives the crew time to relax, and even show a few smiles.
Thank you for visiting this site. I am truly grateful.
“Love is your safety. Fear does not exist. Identify with love, and you are safe. Identify with love, and you are home. Identify with love, and find your Self.” –ACIM
“Veganism is believing that an animal’s life is worth more than a sandwich. That’s it! That’s how simple it is.” –The Spiritual Vegan