past to port

You come home strong sailed and black mast and I am humbled, I admire your strength and that you are genuine. I stand back as you take deck and display for all to see who this Captain is, they know who runs this. I will step off this ship. In your path lay warm grass, warped glassed and ash, ground beaten down and soaked in warm blood. Black palms overshadow this paridise I am searching and their long shadows grow the longer I search into the sunset of our lives. I have grown old of our long days at sea and the longing for home I could not discribe or no longer know. Yet frightened and fickle I crawl on this shore thinking, "stones unturned." Trying to remember back from birth if this mother birthed me or if I am just a lost soul belched from this sea, so deep, a bastard child from the broken heart of logic. Unknown depths and secret monsters, ebb and flow slowly eroding all your white sand beaches. A sunken treasure resurrected, washed ashore. I snap to and feel the sand beneath washing away the dreams from under my feet. No land, no solidity. and this was all a dream, no safe port onward the sea