Waiting for the Winds

A poem from a non-poet...

I laid the lines and broke the bow and waited on the wind,
Obeyed the binds, the yoke for now, a mated mind to send.

A steadied wheel retook the tide and stayed the dire chart
but readied sails look mystified, desiring to depart.

No motion makes the vessel fly, no sighing fills the sails;
The oceans take especial pride, and deny the will that fails.

And waiting while the storms collect, a saddened soul divides;
A fated way, forlorn and yet, I will not be denied.

The course is set, the way is known, a turning to the sea,
A force beset within my own, a yearning to be free.

Now evening's born, the day declines, I settle deep within,
But come the morn, I'll lay the lines, and wait upon the wind,
Yes, come the storms, I pray tonight, while waiting on the wind.