My husband and I agreed to write each other a poem every Valentine's Day, however bad it is, to vary our creative expressions, and so we'll have 100 poems on our 50th anniversary. They are meant for just our eyes, but he told me I should share mine.
We don't set aside a lot of time to write these, and with all the other things going on in our lives, we don't really have the time anyway. So mine was done in just a few hours. I've already found some typos, and from a literary stand point, I know it has problems. But that's not really the point for me and my husband. So I'm posting it as it is.
The idea is based on our current life situation, (as some of you are aware of) of being in a place of waiting...and waiting...and waiting for a change that we have no control over. It's pretty frustrating.
Being a visual artist, I don't have a lot of training in The Art of the Word. It's a huge stress for me to put this out in the world. I feel like I am way more exposed than I do when I show my art. But this poem has given me some inspiration, so I might end up making some paintings to go with it, as a personal project. We will see how much time I have...In the meantime, happy sailing!
Our Ship Full Of Dreams
High up in the heavens, in a stale sea of mist
I wait, poised in my boat.
Packed heavy with my dream maps,
The vessel rigidly sits afloat.
Not a ripple or wave for miles around.
I listen for voices, but all is quiet and strange.
The mighty sails sleep like a hollow phantom
Waiting for the winds of change.
I know all my maps by heart,
All I can do is read them over, and over again.
Sometimes new dreams emerge from old ones
So I’ll draw a new map, now and then.
But what good is a dream map
With no way of setting sail?
So I wait, and I sit, and I dream
Until, “Ahoy there!” I spy a mate through the foggy vail.
“Climb aboard, sailor!
I see you have fists full of dreams.
We’ll wait for the winds together,
They will come, as hopeless as it seems.
I’ll show you my maps if you show me yours.
I believe I have a map just like that one,
But I’ve never seen this one before,
It sure looks fun.”
Soon we started to merge our dreams,
And reams of new maps covered the floor.
They were bigger, and grander, and mightier,
Than any dream I’d penned before.
The maps piled higher and higher,
And the boat began to creak,
But we just kept dreaming,
As the maps formed a mountainous peak.
As we scribbled and giggled
Over our best idea yet,
We felt a light breath brush our cheeks,
And as the sun came up, all the sails were set.
Suddenly, the winds of change tossed the boat
Launching us into flight.
The radiant sun, our beacon
After that long, dark night.
The wind stung my eyes.
So I squinted passed the bow.
“But where are we going?” I asked,
“What happens now?”
You opened up a scroll.
“The voyage will be treacherous and unknown
But our dreams will be our guide,
Wherever we are blown.”
