Author Kingham Page, the Online Writer
Sailing
What surging magnetism
Draws me to those wind-whipped waves?
Why so powerful the call to sail to the limits
And, occasionally, beyond them?
Hull's lift, stabbing thrust
Of freshly wind-gust empowered cat
Slicing the waters open
Roaring, crashing spray
Almost capsizing.

I need the fight,
Wet wind-slapped face,
Sore muscles.

I polish the hulls for yet more speed
(Past risks insuffice)
Driven deeply to place my body
Closer to the elements
That would claim me.

Is sailing my pilgrimage
Of fright/joy
And the lake
My mother, painfully beautiful
And sweetly, darkly possessive?
Never, in the depths,
Truly contented.
Always harbouring a rising storm
Today - next week -
Is this the source of threat
To which I am drawn?
An addict to the restless power
I so need
But which awakens my fear?

For that wind, those waves, those forces
Are within
Most stormy,
My baptism
Mirrored in each lake storm.
Ross Kingham
© - Stanmore, NSW - 4.2.92

Ross lives in Canberra, Australia. He is the director/administrator of Barnabas Ministries, Inc., which offers ministers of the Gospel a place to pause, refresh their perspective, and renew their acquaintance with God.

separator

Did you really like "Sailing"?

When you really enjoy something, you want to express yourself.

    Click here to contribute by mail.

    $2
    $5
    $8

Your contribution is appreciated!

Peace doesn't just happen - it is sought out, negotiated, and can never be trusted to remain. Won't you help to keep it?

Separator

The Quick Navigator
Home Authors Contents, Table of Guidelines Submissions

This Page © Copyright 1998-2007, John B. Moss - the Online Writer
Last updated on: 3 June 2007
This site designed & supported by: MiscelPage