A Journey

Don't even ask me what this means.  I thought I knew, but then I forgot.  

I sailed away

On a ship with no wheel

And a treasure map burned on my skin

By an excess of caution. 

I saw the clouds gathering on the parallel

Between sky and lapping sea

I smelt the typhoon in the air, felt its teeth in my hair

Squared my shoulders and let loose the sail—

I had had enough

Enough, I swear

Of anchors and starfish marooned on the sand

Enough of moorings and fishermen’s tales. 

There was a storm in my soul

And I meant to let it out. 

The waves pushed back on my hull

Goosebumps and wet hair

A chill equal parts sea spray and bad feeling. 

But I set my jaw

Braced my boots on the deck

And let the rope skid through my bare hand.

The clouds reared like horses

Like lions

Like a king in the heat of his final stand

And all at once I became small

A child in a paper boat

A quick-hearted mouse in the second before owl

A leaf on the street in an autumn gale

A girl on a skiff without a wheel

And it opened its maw and swallowed me whole—

I flew. 

Like a gull I flew

With my arms spread and my eyes shut

And the grin of a fool on my face. 

I was unbound, unburdened

Lashed to the mast of a sinking ship

With the storm tearing out of my stomach

To join its countrymen

And I did little but let it go

For try as I might

I could not keep even a piece. 

That hour has been consigned to the ship’s log of what has been. 

It left me limp on the deck of my ship

Back bare to the sun

Hair half-dry in a broken halo

Raw hands splayed beside red rope. 

Only then did the ocean show mercy—

Passing my vessel across the heads of waves

Back over the blue expanse of the sea

While the gulls cried with laughter above my head. 

It nudged me ashore with a gentle kiss

And a patronizing word which trickled into deaf ears. 

“Next time, use a wheel

And bring a real map.”