On planks of wood,
Floating on a plain,
I see the masts stand tall,
Wind gales billowing its cloudy flames.

The crash of water,
The yells of men,
And the occasional cry of a gull.

I run my fingers over grain,
Of a wooden rail,
Eyes searching,
The hazy horizon of a forgotten perception.

Legs that only know of swaying,
Mind that knows of sails,
Hands that know callouses,
And feet that know nails.

My heart is here,
Upon the sea.
To sail for...
Eternity.