Tossed, clinging to debris
in the torrent of your wrath
some men would quickly swim to shore
than face the aftermath.

I came at first to explore the sea;
I came with open heart.
What I then found told me that
I would not, could not depart.

The sea was vast and I enthralled
was blinded by the light
that bounced from the glistening waves
surrounding me day and night.

I was just a ship fighting for a chance
to float with those wondrous waves
and reach that elusive calm
that every mariner craves.

It surprised even me how I came to be
in a situation so desperate and so dire;
I’m not a victim of foul play-
mutiny, poison, slander nor fire!

I made my own mistakes
because I had no charts.
The journey was filled with setbacks
stops and starts.

An unforeseen wave struck so hard
that tossed from the broken ship,
I gasped for air and prayed
while I felt my life slowly, slowly, slip.

But I am here
still clinging to debris.
I hope that I have survived
the temper of your sea.

I will not swim to shore to hide
my head in forgetful sand;
the sea rewards with mystery;
there’s monotony on the land.

My debris is now turned by resolve
back into a ship I pray
will guide me through the torrent
to a calm and sunny day.

This poem a part of a series...
Part 1: Running
Part 2: Let's Walk, Not Run
Part 3: Torrent
Part 4: Where "We" Live