Voyages

My life has been a voyage from start to finish.

 

 

 

My life on the outward journey

so far off I had not a clue

Leagues and leagues yet to go

passed the rum with the rest of the crew

 

For many a year the winds blew favor

upon my life’s journey and quest

Stopped at many a port in the storm

but for few, have forgotten the rest

 

Many the souls with which I started

at a score plus maybe three years

Have fallen prey to life's rough way

washed to sea along with their tears

 

Wind swept decks of my old ship

where I've lived, loved and wept

Well-worn friends who shared my fate

rode the seas on which we slept

 

It came one night there were fewer days

ahead than there had been behind

Found myself gazing to morning light

toward homes loving ties that bind

 

But the sea between here and there

be rough like the tempest shrew

Fighting the wind to sail the waves

tossed and thrown in the churning brew

 

Keeping the bow pointed for home

with the wind or against as we tack

Push for port through the fading light

look ahead and never look back

 

I turn for port thinking of you

as voyages end where they start

Time this sailor found his way home

to touch the warmth of hearth and heart

  $12.50

Author's Note

I pray all I am, all I may ever be, can be found in the hearts of those I have loved.
And who have dared to love me. As in the times of the ancient mariner we all hear the call of sirens that gesture us to sail home. Continuity of purpose flows from the wellspring of our lives. In the end we all find we are drawn inexorably home, to the hearth from around which we told our tales of long ago and spun our yarns of a life well lived. The well spent life will always beckon from the winds of change a call for home.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

What a wonderful poem, beautiful words but so much more buried beneath them. There really is something in comparing life with sailing the high seas, weathering storms, lying in the doldrums and all that .. and of course, the proximity of people you live and love amongst ..

'Keeping the bow pointed for home with the wind or against as we tack ~ Push for port through the fading light looking ahead and never look back'

Think this is one of your best .. love it.

[Muse]

I'm not sure what I like more...the picture..the words...or is it the music? Nevertheless; you put all three together, it becomes a dinner and a show. xo

[Me]

A very enjoyable poem.

[roarke]

A steady course to be sure.
Did you build a model of that boat in a bottle?? That's some ship.

We went from a bedroom community life of commuting 80 miles everyday in a large metropolitan city to homesteading in a small, rural mountain town. If I interpret your poem correctly, it's the contrast and comparison and realization of home that makes all the difference in life, provided it's a "good"home.

I see less continuity in society today, even when looking around the world. Instead of uniting the seven billion individual realities, we are scattering the 7 billion into a thousand times that more.

This year more than ever, I"m convinced staying close to home, taking care of and nurturing our lives simply and from the calm harbor and hard work found only in the homestead that we will be able to maintain our life's continuity. Stay close.

[LadyNaida]

This is amazing! I find that it must be so hard to go away for months at a time and leave your loved ones behind without knowing if your ever coming back from the voyage.

[Sujash I. Purna]

Magnificent work Tate!

[Chris]

I Like the note and agree...

The poem speaks on its own - and for itself.

Thanks for posting it.
Chris

[Shelly Braen]

I admire this piece, I truely do, Tate. Such calm adventure, and devine longing. So many meanings hidden within the heart beats of this write. There is much to be adored and felt within the ambient words you pose. Wonderful, wonderful piece.

[SageMusic]

Have read this three times in one go around. Stunning imagery. Have you ever heard of Dougie Maclean? There is a song (yes, it always heads back to music for me) called Ready For The Storm. Once in awhile there comes a song that I simply can not play or sing without tears for a long while. It was a couple of months before performing it on stage was even possible. Your writing invokes the same emotion.

Great ink does not come without price of things past, does it?

[EmpressPoetess]

BEAUTIFULLY SAID! so soft and serene with longing!

[George Love]

Most excellent work. Love the image of keeping the bow pointed towards home.