Out to Sea

Waves seem to crash the sun.
For his journey has just begun.
He knows there is nothing left
but to move forward.
But without a compass,
what is he moving toward?
But without a compass;
an empty pocket,
who cares what is left or right?
With grass nowhere around,
there is happiness in sight.
He holds up his hands and grabs the sky.
For nothing now can be too high.
He turns his hands; scarred and calloused,
from the life he had before.
Quickly, forgets the pain and
remembers no more.
Nothing left but singing ocean
that plays his favourite tune.
The sun sets on him.
Oh! By the light of the moon!
The sun's lover dances in the sun's place.
As the boy at sail wipes tears from his face.
"What care I if there is no up or down?"
He looks to the stars and sits on down.
A cold beer in a hand,
and the Green Goddess in the other
and the steady heartbeat
of his long lost lover.
That is all he ever wanted
as again he cries.
Looks up at the stars and wanders his mind.
No sounds of hurt or blood that stains.
No broken words and no more pain.
Fresh ocean; there is plenty to drink.
Open sails and forever to think.
He dips his hands and learns some more
of how a clock works and what for.
A hand full of water he begins to taste.
He starts to learn more,
"No time to waste!"
Says the man who knows.
He even learns more as the brisk wind blows.
So much knowledge he finally rests,
with a book of knowledge on his chest.
And in his heart he finally sees,
that Heaven, "lives inside of me."
Heaven crashed down and filled his soul.
He realized only the sea makes him whole.
Not the mountains over-looking sky and
not the seasons switching by.
Not even the promise of another day,
but knowing the ocean will guide his way.
He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
Believing that this is only rest.
He opens his eyes to a familiar room.
A window to the right and a desk too.
A door to the front, a closet to the left,
and all the materials he ever kept.
He loses his way and falls to the floor
and crawls over to the unlocked door.
Hoping for and endless sea,
but the open door is just a dream.
Empty pockets.
Sorrow is day.
There are not enough fish to pay his way.