Psalm of the Seafarer

Probably still a prototype, but I publish this piece to prove my poetic prowess.

Tragedy starts our story, as is typically true. A storm stranded a child, casting him into the blue. Alone, adrift, surrounded by sea--there was never a soul as lonely as he.

Though water had stranded him, with friendship it branded him, and taught him the tricks of the tide. The boy built a boat, which just barely float; still, it filled him with pride. Sea insisted he sail, there was no room to fail--not even through thunder and hail. Water watched the boy grow, taught him the flow, and from where winds would blow. Eventually it rendered him something much rarer, he had become a seasoned Seafarer.

With no compass to guide, or map to abide, he wandered by whim of the wind. Wishing seclusion would end so his heart he could mend--he really just needed a friend. Alone he float, nothing to emote, until a bottle beseeched the bow of his boat. It made his heart totter when fished from the water, and he unrolled its concealed note.

"Could it be?" he asked with glee, "Another at sea, and lonely as me?"

The message was short, and of a whimsical sort. Its tone was spry, it mostly said, "Hi." It told of a girl so alone, it felt like her life only drone. So she whispered to water like she's the seas' daughter, and wished to the wind for a friend.

Still just a child, imagination went wild, "She speaks to the sea, so she's lonely as me. Probably a princess of the sea." He wrote a reply, and let his words fly--trusting the will of the ocean. He cherished her letter, it made him feel better, and soothed his lonely emotion.

As he got older, his skills got much bolder, and solitude simpler to shoulder. He upgraded his boat, its might made him gloat--now he could sail all day. Wind became his advisor and made him much wiser, and helped to show him the way.

For land he looked until located, only to be devastated. People provoked he pull his hair: preposterous, pompous, and plain unfair. Though he was kind, eventually he'd find, it was rare to be requited. Land he found shallow, when depth he held hallow--his trust in man was blighted.

He yearned for the blue, wishing to share it too, but never could he find love true. Ladies were lovely, some special to he, but none a princess of the sea. When none could astound like the bottle he'd found, for a life all alone he thought himself bound.

Down at the dock, where all sailors flock, he searched for someone like he. Just off shore docked a huge Man O' War, its sight a majesty. He sought to enter their navy, but they all said he was crazy, 'cause they thought they owned the sea.

Their methods aggressive, they were not impressive, they were basically bandits and knaves. Seafarer was wiser, with wind his advisor, he felt the will of the waves. His methods they mocked, at his system they scoffed; at the sight of his skill, they just stared and gawked. His clipper was quicker, with sails much slicker, by his moxie they were all shocked. He was one with the ocean, he felt its emotion--he knew the flow, and where winds would blow.

Too shallow to stand, he tired of land, preferring how water behaves. He put the world at his aft and perfected his craft: becoming one with the will of the waves. Despite being lonely, he found the sea homely, and shamelessly spoke to the ocean. It whispered through wind, and gave him a friend--bonding through congruent emotion.

Alone he float, learning by rote, until a bottle beseeched the bow of his boat. It made his heart totter when fished from the water, and he unrolled its concealed note. "Could it be she?" he asked incredulously, "Is it my Princess of the Sea?" He fetched the old letter, the one that made him feel better--the comparison made his breath catch. Lo and behold, it was better than gold, 'cause the writing was clearly a match.

Now she was older, and her feelings much bolder--she just wanted someone to hold her. So much seclusion gave her heart a contusion, so she wrote to the sea to express an effusion. Her gorgeous emotion matched the sea's motion, with all the depth of an ocean. Wishing seclusion would end so her heart she could mend, she wrote to the sea for a friend. Although she demurred, she thought it absurd, as water would never read her word.

Seafarer aghast, he had to lean on the mast, stunned 'til shock had past, "For these to make their way to me, she must be sacred to the sea." Heart full of glee, he made this decree, "I shall search for she, the Princess of the Sea."

Sails unfurl, so he could go get his girl; he whispered his wish to the wind, "Take me to the Woman of Water, she, the seas' sacred daughter--find my ultimate friend." With no compass to guide, or map to abide, he traveled by tricks of the tide. He was one with the ocean, he felt it's emotion--a master of how water behaves. Knowing not where to go did not make him slow, for he knew the flow, and where winds would blow.

He was one with the will of the waves.