The Sailor

This poem talks about a point in my ife when uncertainty as a young 23 year old is extremely terrifying. I feel a lot like a sailor in the middle of a storm, trying to navigate through adulthood.

Beyond the deep waters of the Pacific, 

with an old map to guide her stands the sailor.

 

Upon the ship's edge she grips the old map with rough hands, and

her eyes squint against the sun.

 

Where would she be without her map?

A trusty old wrinkled piece of fabric withholding the markings of

Ancient civilizations.

Places she's explored and 

places she's learned to love.

 

Lost treasures and vast lands are waiting for her now.

Where the arms of the unknown will welcome her openly.

Yet her arms and legs tremble against a sudden gust of wind,

and the roar of thunder emerges from cumulonimbus clouds.

 

Years of sailing have prepared her for this moment.

A moment she hopes to soon forget.

 

The sailor closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, 

as a bolt of lightning sends electricity straight towards her. 

Reviews

[AliciaB]

The imagery throughout this poem is striking (haha - sorry for the lightning pun. :) ) You paint a beautiful picture of the scene, which conveys well the mingled feelings of exhilaration, fondness, anxiety, anticipation, and terror that come with this experience. It's a wonderful extended metaphor for this part of life. The final four lines are the most intriguing to me, especially because the sailor hopes to forget this moment. Why would she? Is it because she's afraid? Will she want to remember it after it occurs? Overall, this is very well written. Great work, and sail on, sailor! I'll be praying for you! :)

[Tionge Rosalie Johnson]

Wow! This is wonderful feedback thank you. I'm glad that you enjoyed the metaphor and appreciate the great response!