All at Sea

I did not wish 
To be a mariner
And set a course
Cross stormy seas
With sails set
At midnight
Crying
"Let the wind take me."

As the dawn rises
Across a grey sea,
There is a hard hand
On the tiller.
There are rocks 
To be avoided,
Threats 
To be addressed,
A grim set to the jaw
And a bite into the wind.

No GPS do I hold
Just an old fashioned compass.
For an old journey
With an ancient hull, shipping water, 
and a glimmer of faith.

JL May 15 12:02