Tall Mast

Hold of wealth, cover bound as knowledge,

cook, first mate and cabin hand manage.

Mates of ship are bound by decks,

calmed as one by crew annexed.

Tall mast sail parting fog in quest.

I stand up on crow’s nest,

aware of past and danger aside,

not all are with us on this great ride.

The captain stirs to direct action…

“Navigator, craft our projection”.

Dots of stars guide thru tangled mess.

Off to place we do transgress.

Sailing oceans does open time to ponder

with wonder, if I am to know or go.

Forward ho! All hands on sail,

knowledge gained, we battle gale.

The story crashes into we,

fighting to get out of me.

As I toil meaning of our kind,

my thoughts and soul unwind.

My spirit bleeds word ignition

with intuition and recognition.

'Tis awe, with bits and sums of pieces

captures us, a hero releases.

M.S. Molly did tame the beast, geodesy,

conspiring to untangle theodicy.

Classical sounds ebb and flow,

crafting sweet jazz voices sew.

Pain mends and builds nature’s art,

motivation wins to share my heart.

Speaking freely, the price I bare,

a release I give, without fanfare.