She had forgotten
herself time and time again.
Her visage is new.
Composite
Epic
Life raft bobbed,
A buoy
on calm water,
heat of morning sun expanding,
warming salty air
whispering “good morning”
to a solo voyager.
Heavy eyelids slowly open,
waking,
with dreams fading
with the feel
of usual sea mist.
What day this was,
And how many
there had been,
She could not be sure
Instinctively,
she glanced at her compass,
Nested in palm,
To find hand empty,
with no compass
at all.
On the Improvement of the Understanding
by Benedictus de Spinoza
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1016?msg=welcome_stranger
Sea Song
My Love
I am breathing still
I thought you should know
Love
I keep moving on
With waves that surge
And Crests that fall
For you
My love
Closer
Stronger
Journey ever longer
I have grown
Wait and see!
Oh the stories we shall tell,
Of two voyagers
Lost upon this raging sea
Ever more,
For you
My love
The wind may howl
The rain may sting
But should it take a day longer
I will be
Still voyaging to
My lost heart,
My love upon
The sea
For water compares naught
To oceans in heart
That pull by moon,
Toward you.
She of Letters 