I’ve grown fond of tripping over ropes as I lean forward at the rail upon this mighty ship.
My hair blows into my face and it feels good letting go,
Though each time I rummage for more hope
I feel the wind crying at me as if I have always forgotten to say goodnight to it.
But I havent!
I whisper my serenity prayer each night I lay awake in bed,
And count the trees bending under the weight of their new leaves blowing to and fro.
I am forgetful, so I cannot be perfect.
But I plan my next voyage with this ship the vessel that will take me there,
Which makes me smile as my hand rummages through a few frayed strands that tell me stories.