The clouds sought rest on foggy broken dawn,
And gentle mist brushed through his salted face.
A Boy, whose gaze fixed on a distant Man,
Whom held his future in a nimble chase,
Had listened, “How now that you follow me?”
His young facade to mirror a reply
Had said, “How not that you gave life my dreams?”
The white flag sailed in subtly dimmed regret.
A handmade sail beheld by boom and mast
cast dreams that kept afloat from late dissent,
Then reefed in storms born of warnings held fast
To whisper hints of longed desires dreamt.
So as a Son becomes his Father true,
A life at sea fulfilled in blood of two.