the salt air lifts the
horizon rises like breath
over the waves, a silver
promise in the morning light
here is the curve of
discovery, the whisper of
adventure in the spray, the
unknown land unfolding, its
story waiting, like a new
page, untouched by time or
hands, the gulls call out
a welcome to the brave
souls on deck, eyes wide
with dreams and longing,
their hearts echo the rhythm
of the sea's song, timeless
and bright, under a sky
so vast, so blue, it's as
if the world has just been
born, again, for them, for us
each moment is new, each
swell a promise, the journey
a gift to be opened slowly,
revealing the world anew
Offline)
Comments2
Beautiful imagery in this poem. Vivid and identifiable.
Rich imagery, but horrendous when the results of that touching are considered - havoc and devastation on the populations already resident in that new world.
Must be really taxing living with that glass perpetually half empty
Not half empty - history is history. Truth not fantasy.
Thanks for sharing your feedback Dave it gave me the idea to write a poem about how the settlers brought disease and such to the indigenous people who's Homeland they were invading
Sounds good to me - honest. I'll read with interest.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.