A Sailor's Dream

Dedicated to my friend Andrew

One evening, sheltered from the wind and the rain

At ease in a little cove, enjoying his Southern Comfort
The sail, a happy and soft tune exchanging

Between the mast and the rigging

My sailboat anchored in melancholy

Was dreaming of a start for a change.

A little whisper, just a small breath,

Who knows? Perhaps a ballet

Of blue or sperm whales

To rock the boat and take him for a dance
Just a sensation to fill the silent, 
empty space between two waves.

           Thirsty for fullness, surrounded with solitude

In this well designed habitat, all weather-proofed

The hold all sealed up, air conditioned

The rudder plunged in a space

Reduced to an indefinite wait.

Nothing, flat pond water, at the horizon

Nothing, but a synchronized flight of pelicans

Flipping their wings with the rhythm 
I was beating with the tip of my foot.
Maybe, that’s it, the echo of the deep

Response in harmony to a shiver of the heart

That emerges in the night on some wooden deck

And rises in crescendo up to our neck.

Not even daring, the veiled sound of a Ukulele

Draws from her sleep a sweet vahiné.

“Wake up! It’s time to rise and shine”

Strumming morning chords fade slowly,

One needs to play more than a song

To discover the pearl hidden

Behind the veil of a moiré sarong.

Meanwhile, she, unaware of her own power

Lets a melody escape, miraculous breath,

A Westerly trade wind blessed by God.

Filled with wonder at the sight

When he was hoping for a whale

To rescue him from his plight

The sailor, staggering, stumbling

Holds the dancing mast with all his might

As in a ballet choreographed on an off-beat.

Suddenly, surprise

A gentle stern wind blows on his sail

The hull whimpers and all the joints

Start singing a sweet symphony.

The floating hammock swings

And heads for a sweet harmony.

The sailor, far from analyzing

This fortuitous scented breeze

Asks almost in a whisper:

"Aren’t you gutsy with your gust!"

"Why, no! All my wrong if any

Is to have blown in your sail?

Now it’s your call to follow your star.

After all you woke me up

With your foot tapping.

Isn’t it what you wanted?"

 

Come on, sailor man, don’t blow your cover

Especially, don’t blow your cool!

To your words, add your steps,

And stop giggling.

For after having heard you

I was gutsy, indeed

So, now play me

A happy tune on your Ukulele."

Jean-Louis.