Siren’s Call

I can see a boat,
approaching like a specter.
Haunting on the horizon,
beckoning with it’s glow.
Reminding me, as it’s sails flex,
of my impending boarding
and impending departure.
Who is to say what lies ahead?
When all we can feel
is the sand on the shore,
through our deciphering toes,
that find our buried anchors.
This is the time in which I must go.
There is a time, for us each I think.
The world is an awful big place.
There is so much I have not seen.
It would be a shame as I sail away
to look anywhere but ahead.
But I cannot help but peek
at what is left behind,
as I add my calloused hands
to these ragged sails.
Now all I can do,
is trust in their weather.
Feeling salt and spray
as I am carried away.

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