The man’s ship

The man’s ship (2016)

The ships were long gone,
And the shore was quiet and alone.
With the starry night as company,
The ghost of the sailor walks.
His steps are short but many,
And with closed mouth he talks.
“Where is she?”, he wonders
As his eyes search the border.
For the “old galley” he asks to the wind,
Her name fading in his wobbled mind.
“It was here not a moment ago”, says he,
Pointing with a blurred finger at the mist.
-----
“And what of you?”, inquires the breeze,
Sensing that the spirit is lost in gloom.
“I was and I am”, breathes the shadow,
The memories erupting with a taint of sorrow.
“Built for the sea, I sailed all my life;
Like my crewmen and other vessels,
We cruised with the cloths swollen up,
Water and thunder always on top.
Never sinking, never stopping,
Ever gliding, always floating.

In my travels I have seen, tasted and heard,
Many storms I have pierced without fear.
Now I’m stuck like a tree or a mountain.
Did I sink in the depths of the ocean?”
-----
To the rocks, then, the mariner turns,
In his eyes a plea of a reply burns.
His question is made again
But the stones give no answer,
Just a stiff grey stare.

So the ghost lays in the sand,
And takes a grain in his left hand.
Playing with the tiny particle,
The memories start to come.
He remembers the salt and the rope,
The waves clashing in the prow;
A smell of fishes, a sound of birds,
And the sun burning down the blue world.
“Those things are no more”, he hears,
Without knowing who speaks.
-----
In the beach now he remains,
Like a vision or a wreckage;
Helm and head melted in one,
Washed by waves that reach the land.