On a beach walk I saw a sailboat in the distance on the gulf of Mexico. From the shore it loomed nearer, although not in a morose way. It was big and sturdy and coasted easily on the calm, December water. Its sail was brown like dry earth, with writing I could not make out. All alone out there, no other boats crowding it as they usually do on a sunny, Saturday afternoon.
The boat made me think about people in my life. How some are just a long view away. Some are gliding along the shore, some so far away you can barely feel their presence. Others are lapping at the shoreline, either in happy rest or wanton attention. Some do not cast their nets. Some are long gone, or shipwrecked at the bottom of the sea.
There are the boats I try to hail and bring to me, to sit and take comfort in. Those I do not want to sail away. But sometimes they do, or will. And this brings a terror in me I cannot cultivate. It will end the peaceful stature I’ve tried so hard to bring forth and maintain.
Living in the present moment and letting things be as they may is not always simple. The past tries to spin me into its tormenting monsoon. Sometimes I want to moor the hailed boat on my shore and anchor it there forever. But the more I try, the more the boat wants to cast away to sail other blue waters.
If I let it go, will it come back?
If so, will it be solo or bring along a fleet of its own?
. . . . .
A sailboat glided along the distant shoreline
its stately stature coasting on blue December waters
The sail the color of dry earth with writing I could not make out
It appeared as so many people have
Some as that sailboat, just a long view away
Others so far away, their presence barely felt
And more, lapping at the shore line
In happy rest
Or wanton attention
Some do not cast their nets
Others are long gone
or shipwrecked at the bottom of the sea
I hail those which envelope comfort
and pray they stay
But some boats sail away
as they are meant to do
And I try not to think of this as a torrent of
sadness and regret
or fight to anchor them forever
For the more I struggle, the farther they sail
along other blue waters.
12 responses to “The Sail and the Anchor”
I really like this one Jen!! merry Christmas.. Jimmy
Thank you so much, Jimmy! I appreciate you reading and commenting. I hope you are having a wonderful holiday season.
So often in this life we have shared together, you have been the wind in my sails. JTF
This was so unexpected and put a very big smile on my face. I’m glad I could be the wind in your sails, dad. You always supported my creative endeavors and continue to. I love you so much. Thank you for being a Busted Flip Flops fan and wonderful dad.
well,about time.i miss your blogs.MERRY CHRISTMAS to u and Ian.
luv ya my friend.stay safe and healthy
Thank you Ron! Yes it had been too long. I’m so glad you enjoy my blogs. It means a lot. Thank you for your kind words and Merry Christmas to you as well!
Yes, friends of all kinds can be fleeting, drifting slowly away, while others anchor and harbor. The joy is how winds sometimes send the voyagers back into our ports.
Thank you, Mike! It was so nice to see your comment here. You brought a whole other perspective to this idea of anchoring and harboring– the movement of wind as a force (sometimes predicted but many times sudden) to transport loved ones “back into our ports”. I love this!!
You’re welcome. It’s classy that you respond back to responders on your WP site, something I still enjoy reading. Continue your insightful thoughts on life and sharing with others. Stay well.
Love it, Very thought provoking and true. Hope you are doing well. Hope 2022 is a great year for you!
Thank you so much, Beth! I appreciate you reading and commenting and that it resonated with you. I hope 2022 is a great year for you, too.
Well said. Curious how some are just ships that pass in the night and others are part of our fleets. Never know where the sea will take you!