Paper Sailboat (Odyssey): Part I

Hours spent folding to form

unbreachable, unsinkable

a paper-made sailboat to explore

the seven seas

At first it seemed

it might never leave shore,

pummeled and pushed

set to sink five feet from home

But with a rush came the wind 

tiny sail swept it in and

the paper-sailboat

charged and cut and crested and carved

through the pull of opposition

out beneath open sky

and into endless open sea.

Smooth sailing, it seemed;

gentle undulation

rocked again in the cradle of life and 

from here so many novel things to see:

dolphins leap as if to fly

and whales singing love songs

and somber lullabies.

Without explanation

everything changes

and suddenly what once seemed so inviting

screams and hurls and spits

from all directions

swallowing the sky

swelling up like angry mountains

gaping, frothing maws that

crash

    and crash

        and crash

to consume

failure.

They fail and flatten

giving in, they go, and

the little paper sailboat

conducts repairs and adjusts it masts

setting course once more.