What does one do when the one they love is distant? So close like a breath away yet looks thru you as if you were made of glass. The warmth of words that once gave birth to hope of a new life now swiftly changed like that of the wind blowing in a different direction. Words of comfort and strength; muddled by desire from afar. When the breeze blows; is it like the words that he speaks. The actions conveyed strewed from east to west. Will it ever be stable? Will it ever grow like the leaves on the trees in the spring with newfound life? Will it be as like dead leaves on the ground? Will the hope or desire of one wake it up and cause it to live or will it cause it to leave and never to return? Never once has it been an anchor, but a beacon that shined light in a new direction of a safe harbor. However, now the harbor covered in dark clouds and fog. Mist surrounds, or is it the tears of the one that is lost in the memories of what once was and the hope of what could have been? Salty mist that covers, eyes glisten and the body trembles with fear and pain. Will it ever stop? Why is it that the heart feels so much when the head so clearly knows that the beacon is not there for them, but for another? With eyes shut, the beacon is still there tall and strong in the storms though it is light not calling to me. The rocks that surround it merely strike against the flesh and hurt not willingly yet still cause pain nonetheless. A picture of strength yet within itself it is empty. Constantly turning in circles never finding a direct path to shine gives way to the thoughts. Always wondering and never focused. The ship it beacons to, fires upon it, causes breaks, and threatens it. I see it crumbling in sections that cause my heart to skip a beat not wanting it destroyed, though I see the threat of just such thing. Distracted? No, I do not think so. Unknowing to what it truly looks for? Yes, that is what I believe it is. The fear of such stable and safe ship is new and strange and causes such fear it takes it light and searches for a far less stable ship. Does he not see that what she wants and needs is the strength and love he sends forth? On the outside, she shows strength but on the inside, she longs for the strength of him, to envelope her. Will he ever see that the loyalty she has for him is unconditional? The love she has for him is undying. The tear she sheds never to be seen, much less known to him. The fear of him ever seeing such pain is like an earthquake swallowing up the good lands. Will the tumultuous waves ever cease within me when the glimpse of him passes or the sound of him carries to me? The scent of the sea spray that drifts from him calls me as that of a magnet. Will that ever cease? The solitary place he stands is so secluded yet I wait for the call of his light to me. His harbor is where I long to be safe and secure. If his light never beacons me will I have the strength to carry on in search of another? The compass that directs me has not wavered, but stands still pointing in his direction. Will it like he change like the seasons or the wind? Will it direct me away from him? My heart aches at the thought now, that none can draw me in as he does. Do I anchor in and wait for his light to beacon me in or do I pull up anchor and let the sea carry me wherever it turns? Can I see the dawn and not him there and continue? Can I watch as other ships fire upon him, slowly watch as he crumbles at the base, and then float away? No! I will be there as a source of strength for him and mend with anew that which was crushed. Do I open myself to such pain? Love as I have seen from the depths can be painful yet sweet. Bittersweet some may say. What do I call such devotion to the beacon that shows no sign of notice to this obscure and unkempt ship? Is it devotion? Alternatively, is it obsession? Does he see me as one that will another to him or show him one on the distance? Do I keep my sails down or do I hoist them up and let the wind carry me away? The wind on the sea is so still and quiet. Is this my answer? Battle worn and scarred, will the vessel ever be seen as a beauty from within? The water washes away the travels from which I have been, yet still no beam shines my way. Will the light of the beacon to which I long forever pierce the darkness of loneliness within my depths? Does he even see me here? I am no longer on the horizon but within reach of the harbor. The way filled with large boulders I cannot find my way to him without his light. Does he search to the horizon cause he cannot see close? Alternatively, is the beacon repulsed by the known wars the ship has incurred? Once stroked by his light beam, though ever so briefly; was it intentional or was it by accident? Was it fate? As I saw, his light from a distance or is it life’s cruel joke? I am ripped from the reach of the beacon. As I toss and rock in the waves of the sea, I contemplate the thought... is this the beacon for me? Is his light shinning for another or me? The comfort to which I feel seeing him. On the sea, as I search him standing strong there with such a bright light. A thought crosses me... is what is in my depths for him truly what he needs. Alternatively, am I just preparing to set sail for a taller and stronger beacon that will cast his beam upon me, guide me in to his berth, and allow his harbor to keep me safe from all storms? Could I actually leave the beacon to which I long for, for another? My mind tells me if that is to be so, I can. Although within my depths I tremble with such fear and pain, I feel I may crack and sink into the abyss to which I float on. My board’s cry out with moaning; of being tired from the travels of such treacherous seas. How I long for rest and restoration. How I long for a gentle touch of caring, compassion, respect, and love. Will I ever receive that or will the waves finish the damage from the battles long past and send me to the depths of the sea to the graveyard abyss that one can never return? Oh how I pray that is not to be my fate. There is still strength within me to carry on for I know, I am made sturdy yet the years of battle have stripped away layers and now the vulnerability of me shines like a fire. What will my fate be? Will other ships see me and bypass me as if I am not even there? Will other ships fire upon me and see a threat at my unwavering watchful eye? Am I here to just guard and protect such a beacon? Is that why the sea carried me here? Was it that he needed protection and not me? Was it for him to know that there is comfort within distance of his reach, stability, strength, protection and when in need he will draw me in? Once he receives what he needs from me, will he cast me off back into the sea to where again I am tossed back and forth from the wind and waves? Will I ever find the Harbor that I can call home? Is there a berth, a harbor that will long for me as I long for him? Is it dreaming that such a place exists for the scarred and lonely such as me? Will I ever be welcome with such great jubilee and want; that the beacon that I once long for will be just a faded memory? Alternatively, will he see me for the vessel I am; and want it for himself? Docked in his berth forever more? At night, I see the passing of other ships that pass me, and head to the berth that I long for. Passing all rocks and boulders and never stray from him. Do they see me, or am I invisible to them as well? No, because they see me as I float within distance. They pass with such stride of confidence. Is his light calling them in or are they trying to see if they fit his berth? Do I lack such confidence that is displayed in their sails as they close in to the berth I long to dock in? Are their battle scars as noticeable as mine are? Do I display mine too openly? How do I erase them so they are not as visible? They are a part of me and to erase them is to erase a part of who I am. Should I be ashamed of the battles and wars to which I survived? They are what have made me what I am! No, I will not be ashamed of them nor will I display them. I will blend them in to the veneer of myself and wish them to be seen as character and a form of design to be unique and one of a kind. I am one of a kind for there is none that is built such as me, and survived such battles and wars that I have. Sturdy, yet vulnerable. Will that be enough, to be beaconed by the one I long for? Darkness surrounds the cove with the twinkling lights of stars in the black velvet above. The silver shimmer of the disk above dances on me and I feel beautiful and hope that I am seen. Shine on me, my depths call unto him. The slight breeze carries my song, but does it reach him? Does he hear it? Does he have a deaf ear to me? He hears words, though not the ones I wish. Does he hear the song from my depths and ignores the meaning or the feelings in the words? All I have are put into the words of my songs, every feeling, emotion and desire. Seeing him has changed me in many ways. Does he see it? The changes that have occurred have been positive. I sit here taller, stronger, knowing who and what I am. Is that the meaning of the meeting? Was it to show me that what I show now has always been within me? Has it now been brought to light? Was this all just for me to see? Accept myself for what and who I am? Was he just a tool for that? Is he not the berth for me to enter and remain? Was his berth designed for a vessel such as me? His berth like strong arms opens to the one that is formed for him and him only. Will I be that one? My heart cries yes, though my mind maybe cluttered with fear and doubt. Will that cove be better off without the ship with such character as this ship displays? Will the cove be better with a different ship that causes it to become more alluring with a different ship docked in its berth? Will time tell or is the answer in the wind, in the indifference from the beacon, or the ships that bypass me in the day and nighttime hours? Is that the sound of gulls crying or is that the cries of myself straining to know the answer? Has my time come to an end waiting for the draw of his light and just sit here and allow others to come and dock and leave a mark on the beacon that I love so deeply and dearly? Could I ever erase the marks that others leave in his berth? I can cover them with myself in the berth, though if I leave that berth to gather what is needed they will still be there. Will those marks of other ships alter the fit of the berth to my bow? Will it cause damage to me or cause pain due to splinters left pointed by other ships? Will I be able to withstand the jabs of such damage? With the depth and power of my love in the depths of me, I believe I can. I presume only time will tell. That is, if I am not blown away like a leaf from a tree. Where will the journey of mine end? What berth will I be beckoned to live out my days in peace from the crash of the seas waves and the blistering winds? Will it be his or is there another similar to me that can accept and appreciate the battles to which I have survived and others that I have conquered? Will the other ships laugh in victory if I am not the one for him? Will they rejoice in the pain that tears at the depths of my core? The pressure of the sea seems mild compared to the pressure and desire of the love I feel for him. How can one ache as I do at the sight, sound, or scent of him? Is it unattainable thoughts that lead me to feel this way? If it to be that his light shines upon me, will I be able to have success in giving all to him that he needs and desires. Will I be enough for such a beacon as him? Will I be an addition much wanted and needed or am I an eyesore that is better left to drift to another after a long period at sea? If the beacon sends me away from the shallow waters near him back into the depths of the raging sea, will it receive me or destroy me? Am I strong enough to battle the winds, waves, heat and cold of the sea? Will I incur more scars? Will they be deep or superficial? It seems that is left up to me. The use of my sails will determine my defeat or victory. Is this a battle I should enter, to claim his light and berth or is it for another to claim? How do I know? Do I go by his action? If I do, then his berth is closed to me. What drives him to pull all others but me into his berth? Fear, respect, a lack of attraction, revulsion is that what keeps me from the cove? Once in his berth will there be room for me after so much damage has been done? Will it ever be open fully to accept a ship for long term? I look at him to see what it is that drew me to him was. The brightness of his light, his stature at the end of the cove; so tall and welcoming. His words that sing in the wind of the sea, the music from which he displays for one to hear. The welcoming feel of the site of his berth like open arms for one to rush into. Is his light the one that truly calls me or is it just blind hope from me? Will I cause more pain for him and myself if I continue to love at the level that I do? The question still bodes if his light was created for me or for another. Is my love for him, strong and pure enough that if his light and berth was created for another, that I can let him go? I would think that it is and hope that in time the pain will diminish that that is inside of me. How is it that when one is in love with another, that the one that it is for should shrug it off as an ugly coat of paint. Is my love strong enough to outlast all that come this way? Will I continue to be shaken by the style of each one that seeks the berth that I so desire? Will the waves of the entrance into these waters push me further from him? Will they unleash their weapons to claim him and try to sink me as a toy? Weak in their eyes and scarred beyond repair they see no worth except defeat of me, and victory for them. I have no anchor aboard for it has been cast away long before entering these waters. So what is it that keeps me within reach of the cove and berth? Did the one that design me, know that one day after being battle worn; would long for such a berth and not be accepted in? Will I be turned away and cast back, with no direction of which to sail? The thought of such things causes me to roll in the slight waves of this sea. Have I been overcome? Or am I just entranced to the cove of one that I have never before been turned to? Is this just another mirage of security in the distance that seems so close to embark on that is really not there for me to reach? Alternatively, is it real, built on rock and stone and not sand? Will it continue to stand strong, or be destroyed by the winds and storms of time? Will its berth be wrecked beyond repair that no ship can dock? Has it already been done and the berth I see really not there? The arms of a berth I see, just a mere mirage of hope or does it really exist? How can I tell unless I am drawn to it? Do other ships see what I see and appreciate the sight that is before them? Is his berth just a safe get away from the nightly storms and at dawn they raise their sails and leave him empty again? Dark clouds come in and a heavy mist invades the cove and all around it. Is it the tears of the beacon I love that fears of being alone all his days with nothing in his berth? Is it the tears of the one that desires that place? Could the mist be the mixture of us both, the past, present, and future thoughts that cause such pain from fear and doubt? I want to ease and soothe such pain and doubt in him though his berth does not reach; his light caresses and me not. Alone within his sights, is the most haunting feeling ever? My hull shakes under the pressure and desire to be held within the berth of that cove. Will I be stronger there or will I crumble from all the battles that have ravaged me through time. Will his berth strengthen me or just catch me as I crumble to the bottom of the sea and slip from the berth away from his hold? Will I ever be seen as the beauty I was once built as or will I only be seen as that which I have changed to be? Did I ever think that the battles to which I was placed in; I would come out unscathed? No I knew that there would be scars though did I realize how deep they were? Can I trust that when the waves come crashing overhead and tempt to drown mw that his light will beckon me to dock? Will it be temporary or forever? At this time, just a rope hold me near with no possibility of being in his berth for safety from the storms or even rest from travels that have worn me. I search closer and see that the dock is worn by time as well, yet to me it is a welcoming sight. The strength, of surviving time and weather. Comforting, as he may seem still bears the scars of bad weather as well as I have from battles. Could that be what keeps the distance between us? Thankful for the sight and time here in these waters. Will one day it all be behind me in the sunset? Will I look back one day and know that for that season I was there for a reason. Sometimes the reason evades me and at times, it is as clear as the shallow water in which I reside. There is such beauty around me that I am not sure I fit in to the scene of such grace and splendor. Is my description and desire misplaced? I am ever grateful for my designer that set me assail, though the sea carries me and my sails are tattered; I wonder aimlessly and long for a berth that welcomes me and encompasses the serenity that is much needed. Inundated by waves and other ships I feel lost in the fray. What use will I be if docked in his berth? What can this ship offer the beacon and cove that none other can give? Will I be seen as a treasure or just merely a ship wrecked, waiting to be disassembled and used as scrap? Will I add beauty, to a place that is already a masterpiece in my eye? Is this ship just a casualty of war or a victor that can stand the storms? My designer knows for his capable hands built me. As I am tossed in the sea by the waves and wind, I am not sure. In the darkest storms and treacherous winds will the rope hold or shall it break and I become lost at sea again, wondering if land is near or far? The ocean is as uncertain as the weather. Many challenges, dangers are here in the sea though somewhere there is a beacon that shines. Will I see it in due time to find the safety I need and require? How long will time pass before one spots me and leads me home? What will that beacon look like? Will that beacons berth be open to welcome me for a permanent place? Will I always be afloat, alone on this sea? Will the sea finally take me? I may never reach a beacon. At times, the beacon is in such reach that I can almost feel the berth welcoming me, then at other times I cannot see the berth for I am on the hind side and the beacon shines in the opposite direction looking for one in search of a berth. Is there truly a berth made for a special ship? Will that berth ever hold me in and keep me safe from harm that threatens from the sea? Will it take me in and hold me still, as the rage of the sea comes crashing in? The abyss of the sea is so dark and tormenting that I no longer want to be put to sail on it. I long for rest, security, and love from the berth of the cove to which I see a beacon strong and all consuming. Still the question rings out across the harbor... Is this beacon shinning for another or me? Will there be a break in the storms on the sea for me to see clearly and know? How long will this storm brew and rage? Will there ever be sunny skies that gently caress my sails and lead me to a safe harbor that is meant to handle and tend to my scars? Will this ship ever find rest from the sea or is this ship forever meant to sail and never dock in a berth? Will this ship always be empty? Will it be taken into a berth, cared for, watched over by the beacon? The loads that have been endured by this ship will it all be in vain? Will the experience of such battles and storms be for naught if there is never to be a berth for this vessel? This body of water, the sea; I cannot predict. Although, I cannot predict the turning of the beacon light, that I see as well. Yes, rest is what this ship needs... peace from the billows of the sea... serenity from the clashing of sea storms... security in a berth that a ship cannot receive at sea. Is that asking too much for a mere a ship? Some say no, though there are those that feel that certain ships are made for precisely that. What type of ship am I? I still know not. Am I a solitary forever-sailing ship? Am I a ship that will be beckoned to a berth for relief of the stress from the seas perils? Time will tell, though does this ship have the time to see the answer? No ship wants to be consumed by the sea; nonetheless, it does happen on occasion and falls into the depths of the abyss never to surface again. Weak and strong vessels have fallen to this fate, will this vessel meet that means or find a beacon calling it home for it. Custom made to fit the battle worn vessel this ship has become. Is this vessel tarnished due to the battles and storms or is it redefined as a vessel of character and admired for its strength of survival? Only the one that designed it and the one that beholds it knows that answer. For this ship knows not its worth in the battle of the sea. This ship struggles to stay afloat during the most heinous storms, coming thru them with more scars and broken pieces. Is this vessel sea worthy to go in search for another beacon? Will it survive the violence of the sea again? Is it strong enough to break free in time and set its sails to other parts? The answer is as obscure as the weather and the motion of the sea. If this vessel is to sail again, will it ever be called back by this beacon and embraced, or will this ship be sent to sail without the comforting light of the beacon never to be called again. In the near distance, a ship sits and watches what this vessel tends to do. As this ship stand watch the hull shutters to think it may sink. Should this ship defend or just allow entrance and set sail away as not see what ensues. What good is longing anyway? Pain, confusion, abandonment, insecurity... these can come from longing... steerage unwanted by this vessel. Hope, a solid hold of subject is what this vessel wants... is it possible? Anything is possible... what is mapped out, can the course ever be deterred? Yes, by storms and battles though the destination can always be found if one knows where and what it looks like. Does a vessel know such a thing within its self? Does it go where it is lead or does it go where it feels the breeze and the sea? Can a beacon truly call a ship to berth? I would adventure to say yes, though is it not up to the ship to answer the call by sailing into the cove and dock in its berth? One would think so. However, can one ship think it is a call to them? When actually, it is another ship the beacon calls to its shore? Yes, that can happen. Some coves only have one berth and have no room for unwanted ships. How does a ship know if the cove its facing id=s the berth to which dock? Can it handle the size, damage, or lack thereof? What are the prerequisites of the beacon?
The tides now have broken the rope holding me to the cove that I so longed to take berth in.... The other ship has docked in the berth I have longed for so long. The seasons are changing and the wind billows my sails to have me say goodbye to the beacon. A memory that is all I have left now. A picture of the beacon, the cove, the berth that I have watched over is not mine. One day I hope I find the berth to which calls home... truly home. Maybe then, the battle scars will be accepted as character and not flaws. The size of the hull will be more important than the look of the outside. A cove that will welcome me in and a berth that will tenderly hold me when the seas get rough and the storms threaten my build. Protection, love, acceptance, and respect will be there waiting for this ship anxiously. Seasons, oh how they change... How they change us, make us stronger or make us weaker. Do the winds crush us with its force or send us on another journey to another place. The builder knew when I was crafted that I needed to be able to sustain great storms, dangers, powerful, stinging winds....This vessel feels like its shuddering to the point of breakage.... though it’s just the moans of shaping..... Making me stronger to face any storm that will come my way. My artisan... how diligent he was when he formed me. Yes... I can withstand the storms... I will not break, splinter, or crumble... I will ride the tide that is how I was made... that is what I was made for... TO OVERCOME THE STORMS AND SHOW MY STRENGTH.
