Musings Of A New England Mariner

Musings of a New England Mariner

The satin caress of sleep is torn away, rudely, abruptly.
Morning makes its presence felt through the inhumanity
Of a shrill shriek, a complete contrast to the serenity of dawn.
The old salt calls, it bellows and draws me
Its mysticism and promise of peace attracts this mountain boy
Like faith attracts followers.
Resurgum (I arise).

On deck I admire the subtleties of six am.
The dull light of the suns rays reaching over the horizon
To greet humanity with the stunning ferocity of its primal power,
To warm us, burn us, invigorate us & make us feel alive.
The natives stir, humanity has once again infiltrated their abode.
They pulsate with life & energy as they gracefully leave the confines of terra.
Caressing the morning breeze, they arise.

To journey is to evolve, change oneself, metamorphosise.
It is the essence of humanity; it is like gravity pulling at us,
Drawing us to travel, to traverse the physical, spiritual and emotional.
It is this I contemplate as I am ferried away from security.
The wet wisps of salt caress my face; erode my being…wake me.
The crisp bite draws me further from terra, forces my journey
My nature is challenged, my spirits rise.

The journey ends in anticipation of death…so typically human.
Evolution cannot alter our primeval drive, the pleasure of the chase.
There is no necessity, no need, but there is still honour in the kill.
The satisfaction of the display of ones masculinity,
The testosterone masks the salt, lifts the frown.
As cold steel pierces flesh with surgeon’s precision, blood is spilt.
There’s or ours?

Another! Another! That is the cry as rivalry and anticipation permeate.
The hiss, the tension, the thrill. Time slows, it blurs.
The land, the mountains, home…nothing, nothing but the hunt.
Nature’s fallen angel hits the deck with the thud of finality,
A final gasp for life’s liquid, nature’s prophecy rings true,
Darwin smiles and whispers comfort it cannot understand.
Victory, a once living prize, a trophy to nourish, to be consumed.

In contradiction I indulge. It is my purpose.
It is what drove me from slumber, From the torment of Tantalus.
The promise of relief woke me from awakened sleep,
Pulled me to briny depths relying on strangers and a ship in a bottle.
Lost in the blue of eternity I realise it is my turn.
The pull of my roots, of my past tear me back to all that is reel,
Away from him, away from her, away from the acrid fog burning my soul.

False joy fills me, I jerk and I wind and I repeat.
I can feel the strength of life fade through the taught line.
Regardless, I jerk I wind and I repeat. All eyes turn to me.
Life’s hunted has become the hunter of the weak.
In the flurry of the kill I have forgotten who I am and why I’m here,
I can feel the life filling my being, all that I am returns.
Is it wanted? Maybe the fish can tell.

It is like a small, salty prophet; its arrival is welcomed, rejoiced.
Its eye meets mine, I recognise it. Haven’t we met before?
It whispers “we have and never will again” fear and confusion engulf my hands…release.
Impact, an eye of crimson opens on my hand and stares, speaking with no voice
And we thought it was helpless…a penance? Vengeance? Questions.
The last flicker of its being wavers…death has arrived, I was its harbinger.
Confused, the salt consumes me, it forced my hand.

Still dazed, I revisit reality. The boat thunders through the breach,
The hunt is no more but the stark beauty of blue is eternal.
Slowing our motion through the water is easy, how I wish the same was for time.
These are the things I contemplate as a rough serpent attaches us to land.
Disembarking is harder when there is nothing to disembark for,
Those with a purpose don’t hesitate; they carry their prize and leave.
I have nothing to return to, I already miss the kiss of the salt.

As if by hypnosis sleep is a priority now.
The darkness has consumed the light and my will.
The pillow swallows me and journey and the hunt stir within.
As the final moments of consciousness leave me
I catch through the gauze a faint smell of salt
Which brings to mind the fish, my prey, my prize, my puzzle?
A message from the cross or me?