All my boats tied up to posts upon the docks,
began to slip away.
It was not noticed by anyone,
their shiftings on the moorings,
their pullings on the sailor knots,
lolling in a windless, waveless bay.
They tugged the whole night long against the ropes,
to make their getaway.
It was not noticed by anyone,
when the lines began to serpentine,
uncoiling from those knotted fists;
flat and free they slipped through rings
in a graceful snake ballet.
I had a few I’d tethered even tighter than the rest.
These boats had given endless joy; I never felt alone.
Pretty in their sparkling lacquer, strong of hew and finely made,
I sailed uncharted fearlessly, just knowing they were mine.
It seems that Life is set, for everything to slip away…
It all escapes our childlike grasp, and bobs into the waves.
A sense of sadness lassoed me; I’ll miss them all.
Oh, how I loved to paint their decks,
to fly their flags, and sing their praise.
And yet, they looked majestic as they floated out to sea,
each forming wakes behind them, against the daylight’s dawn,
their departure only noticed now by me.
May 17th, 2016
Lovely one. And yet they are always with you, even if they or you don’t know it. 🙂
Have had the pleasure of one of those boats coming to my own harbor the past few days…had been almost 20 years, but we were able to pick right back up where we left off.
Oh how you know me Scottius! So glad..yes sometimes they might come back home, trailing their ropes behind them.:) Thank you for this comment dear boat:)
Nice one, Karima. Great visuals.
Why thank you Buddeh!
Just Amazing, Karima. Yes, it is so very sad that so much change seems to envelop and overwhelm us at times. Your pain is quite evident and certainly deep. Many resist real feelings these days as the feelings are both painful and threatening. They prefer a warm, fuzzy soft cotton-brains (thanks to Jim here) and out-of- focus comic book view of the world. Where it never rains. I think it is the job of poets and writers to be honest and transparent. Truth is so very hard to come by these days. More agendas than Trix in a box of cereal. I am old and have learned in life many come and many leave. Many run from good ideas and honesty and chase some new glittering illusion. And yes, it is a sad process. Powerful winds of change blow all around us. Restless, vindictive unthinking winds. As turbulence of change is swirling around you, don’t ever change your bearings and core values and creativity and brilliance. No matter who leaves never to return…..stay the creative brilliant you. It is hard to stand still watching horizon standing in eye of hurricane. Everything evolves and that is nature of life. As old boats drift away…..they make pier space for new boats. Let that be some comfort.
So beautifully put, in a style that only you can channel Ron! It is sometimes easy to blame Facebook for making us all only reactors..not deep and supportive friends..and I am not immune to that criticism either, although I still love true conversation, discussion, sharing and debate. In the general scheme of things, people and memories and our very now..will someday slip into the wake.Scottius is right, some true friendships, can weather years and
find their way back home. It’s as if they never left.:) Thank you for your endless patience (my poetry has been far and few between as of late) and your sincere and supportive friendship continues to float in my harbor:)
So poignant! I got a bit, erhm, misty-eyed at the end, the appreciation of the great beauty even of something that’s in some sense so sad. Humans, eh? …
Thank you Dale, just when I was sure that corporate life was sucking me dry…the muse returned to visit…yes I know what you refer to: the bittersweet sadness that only humans know…even in our most nostalgic hours, there is something deeply elating in just really feeling.
Wow! Miss Karima! I think this hits home for everyone. Your metaphoric skills are in top form on this one. As I’ve said many times, I don’t know how you do it! Your well-spring of talent never runs dry. I will write this one down in long hand and hold it close. Please never stop writing!
Thank you Hoyt for staying close to the harbor..your positive feedback, always stimulates the well…It means a lot to read your words.
/me waves a friendly semaphore flag from somewhere in the ocean
Smiles big…and your sails DO look very majestic out there on the horizon…
Thanks for a quick stop in port:)
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Thank you so much for doing this Joey! I am including your video embedded on the post. I just loved it.
I threw a dart. I had to… knowing my own limits. Its not like Karima posts to her blog daily, or worse, like FB, where even spending hours there every day, its impossible to keep current. So, I thought, I can let a few blog entries build up… then I’ll catch myself up with her! You see, I can’t just read her poems and posts. Our beloved poet shows us all ‘ways to see’, and I am equally fascinated by what each means to everyone who comments… so I have to read them all before I write my own. I get an email each time she posts, so I know what’s waiting. It was easy to see when I was 3 or 4 posts behind… then 7… then 10! Yikes! Realizing, with each new post, it would take longer to bring myself up to date, and promising myself that I would. The task slowly became ‘too big to start’, so I would procrastinate even more… until now, where my Karima folder reminded me again today, that I am 16 posts behind. Double yikes!
So… I threw a dart, into the middle of them… to divide and conquer… anxious to get to her most recent ones. See, I also promised myself I would not indulge in their latest machinima until I actually caught up to that post… and I really REALLY want to watch it! ;o)
What I find surreal… is that the dart… landed here! I hadn’t read your poem. The email shows me only the title of the post. So, was it … pure serendipity? …the ‘hand of God’ guiding the dart? …some intuition? …that brought me to start with this appropriate (to say the least) metaphor? I am still in awe that it did. ;o)
What a wonderful poem, Karima ❤ it reflects, in your most beautiful words, life itself. We can't tie the knots tight enough. The ebb and flow of life will loosen even the strongest ones. Ron's wonderful observation that it leaves room for more boats is key. After all, always the same boats… and no room for new ones, ever? What kind of life is that? Too many boats make the mooring weak… too much to maintain against the winds of time. So, still, they float away.
Scottius shares with us what makes us human… hope… as we stare out past the empty bay to the sea, that the wind will bring back to us one of our beloved vessels… and yes… sometimes it does. ;o) (hands you the rope and prays the mooring, the rope, and the knot remain strong, and the wind is gentle, and allows me to stay) ❤
Thank you once again for your wonderful words.
Aww Shesa, I just read your wonderful comment..like 3 years later..How did that happen?!! Thank you sweet one, for such a thoughtful treatise on my pom. I loved it!