Another Old Man and the Sea

ANOTHER OLD MAN AND THE SEA

I was reminded of the sailor setting his sails Bound for the open sea His smack smooth on the calm waters of the Estuary Soon to be buffeted by North Sea waves He knew of Moby Dick whales, Kraken giants The hunger of sharks He knew the treachery and treasures of the sea, Of triumph and tragedy He knew the stories of Pirates and ghost ships He knew the mighty power of Neptune The pull of the wild He was a deep sea fisherman His to mine the surly depths Fill the well of his two masted ship with fresh catch Then bring his haul and his crew home, Theirs then to tell fearsome tales Of storms and waves so high they left you in shade And fear but with an overwhelming craving for life

He knew how to line up his ship into the waves Brave and yet calm accepting of fate He knew how to drive into the towering seas To crash down into safety as he advanced to the other side His father and his father’s father had shown him How to face those watery cliffs Meet every challenge in his way Always believing he would see another day Share the fruits of his endeavours. He was not a fierce man or a cruel man He was a man of, and with nature He knew to be kind and receive kindness He knew to face adversity He knew when to cry with sadness’ tears Or cry out in defiance or joy For he knew he was not alone

He was blessed with an eighth sense A sense of adventure The responsibility to live his life Seek new bonds and boundaries He was a kind man and a kinsman Living in kinship with those who turned to call out ‘Be with us for we are with you. You are not alone’ He was a king and kingsman Loyal to his country and true to himself A man of duty who could also see beauty in all things The sea was his battlefield, his well smack his battleship His duty to return and return again To the welcoming mouth of the Estuary To the firm earth, to the hearth, to his home

There he might light a pipe in front of a blazing fire, He might snuggle up to another’s flesh to find human comfort He might sup on broth, chowder, or bisque Fill his belly with hot food Spit out an errant flake of tobacco Feel lust and desire for all earthly things, Still his sea-boots would await his old sea pins by the door. The seafarer’s heart and soul forever ocean bound, Always hearkening to the Siren’s call, Yearning for the churning waters, Nets and lines entangling his spirit in their mesh Beckon him once again to set sail From the watery edge of the ocean onto the endless mantle of truculent blue An old salt forever he’ll be. A salt of the earth who put to sea