Uncharted Waters

somewhere in the mid-latitudes, a ship prepares to sail

 

Uncharted Waters

Do you see my captain’s ship over there, preparing to set sail?
    It’s the one just a bit eccentric- the old clipper,
remnant of some bygone far more romantic era;
   her hull carefully patched and sails lovingly mended, and her bow
setting a tiny bit lower in the water than she had even a while ago.
      Ships can be sensitive about these things.

She is not the desired sleek, new, opulent yachts-
     that make one think of Caribbean fiestas, caviar, and gentleman’s clubs.
Floating alongside them, one does not know what to make of her at all.
    My captain’s ship is a vessel more suited to the journey of a child’s imagination-
following the likes of Darwin, or Barrett or London or Crusoe,
      certainly not conversant with Forbes and Conde Nast.

My captain begs pardon if she has harbored here uncomfortably long,
     in the quiescent bay of your little island’s lonely paradise.
We arrived quite by accident, and will be making way posthaste.
     Last week, we checked provisions, mended ropes, and consulted maps;
Today, the sextant was set to some distant vanishing point on an unknown horizon.

You have sheltered her well here- and she is grateful,
        for the assistance, the care you have shown, the sharing of laughs and memories made.  
You have been most chivalrous, and generous of your time and self-
       I can tell you, my captain sails with heavy, reluctant heart
 and will slip away quietly, unnoticed to you in your verdant home.

Her message to you is do not fret- this time is not the first,
      she has made an absolute and complete fool of herself
Finding a place where her soul might have given up sailing a while;
    Settling her heart to request a home on solid ground- only to find she has
but prepared the way for habitation by another, invited, guest.

She will hold your shared secrets close-
        for my captain is a strong woman of many mysteries.
She is careful to be wistful in the dark for the truths she dare not utter in the light,
     and will only let you see her best intentions for you and yours. She will not mention-
if she grieves in quiet places with the stars her only witness. For she is also proud.
    
If you will permit me, kind sir, there are more preparations I must make-
      we sail in the crepuscular hours, by sun’s faintest light
My captain will navigate, solely by intuition and courage,
    the treacherous shoals offshore, where, like Hatteras, skeletons of wrecks lie just beneath.
As the maps she brought will no longer serve her for this particular journey.

Her sojourn here has so affected and changed her, she can no longer locate
   even the latitude and longitude of this place.
These are completely new and uncharted waters to her now.
      She would have stayed to learn your home had the invitation been extended-
But she understands why it was not, and graciously asks just your leave.

I too must now go- Take my hand, and bow “fare-thee-well” to the things I have not said-
     That the captain yearns for a copilot to stand by her side,
that when she invited you to walk upon her own island’s shore she did not expect
    the sand to turn to stone under your footprints, preserving them like shadows cast upon her life.
I also cannot tell you how much easier it is for me to speak of “my captain”-

As if she really were in the third person-
    Instead of admitting to you outright how I honestly feel about this departure.
Please do not try to meet my gaze as I turn to make my way-
    For that ship’s captain must be dry-eyed when she draws anchor, and turns the rudder
Slowly setting sail to navigate her way back through your uncharted waters.

If you think of it, just serenade her softly after she is gone.

 

Reviews

[Ravyne Hawke]

Congrats on your contest win. When I first began reading this, I thought, how could this be a break-up poem. By the ending, you had me convinced. So much beautiful imagery in this piece. Wonderful rhythm and flow. You were able to extend the metaphor of this piece perfectly throughout the entire poem. The ending is sad, yet enthralling. A soft serenade... beautiful.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, Lori... not sure what it says when I sweep the board on a contest.. and the contest of for break-up poetry. Kind of a bittersweet win. LOL I do not think any love poem of mine ever received a contest win. But there you go. Gosh, this was so long ago I wrote this piece... I remember the night, and the circumstances, clear as day. I was holding onto something a little too strongly, perhaps... a true gentleman in my life, with other callings, and had to gently let go in order to follow a beacon to another port of call. Writing with no bitterness helped immensely- I was freed quickly, and the fellow and I are still on wonderful terms. It was an exercise in the power of words for me, the power of written intent. I am glad this touched something in you, as well.

[Marie Anzalone]

*is for

[Ravyne Hawke]

I never look at the names of my contestants while reading their submissions.. so what it says is that you are an amazing writer and I found something profoundly beautiful in your words. You deserved all three awards. I am glad that you were able to find the words to let him go without the bitterness we so often feel. Truly amazing =)

[W.k.kortas]

There is an unspoken invitation, I believe, in certain allusions, some of the language, and the clear and consistent lining, to compare this with more classical predecessors--say, "The Wreck of the Hesperus" or "The Rime of The Ancient Mariner"-- but this is clearly modern writing. When you have the interplay of the present and the past, there are any number of pitfalls you can fall into: you can build something that's too academic or too much of a set-piece, or you can try to over-do the aping of classical style. Fortunately, those mis-steps have been avoided here. The metaphor is carried through the whole piece nicely, it's wry as opposed to dry, and it doesn't attempt to be a mock 19th Century piece. This is very strong work.

[Cool Handless Luke]

I'm not sure what it is but there is something very captivating about your wording, and I'm always up to reading tales of the sea metaphorically speaking or not. A beautiful nearly epic poem. Thanks for sharing!

[Fernando Pessoa]

I just love your vivid descriptions and tender imagery that really helped me connect to your thoughts and feelings. Very wonderful to read!

George William Curtis: "It is not the ship so much as the skillful sailing that assures the prosperous voyage."

[Through the Gateway]

I'd like to think the captain is welcome to harbor when she needs to. It may be another's port...but the captain should know that the island tenant cares for who comes into port.

And...you never know. The island may someday find itself in need of a captain.

Beautiful, as always, Marie.

[fauxcajun]

Well, well, well / A most marvelous story / Written in such exquisite language and style / I was captivated, very much so, by the tenor of this journey into the captain's mind / A mystery, yes, it appears there was a few things left unsaid / More to titillate the reader's than to be rude and uncivilized / But we, the readers could not help but read with a moisten eye the captain's dilemma / Sailing the briny deep sans charts and the wherewithal to navigate to an uncharted place is, I feel sure, much better than to remain where the captain is not welcomed anymore . . .