Made in Voyage

Broke shore with a bent hull,
accosted by seagulls,
patronised by pirates and
exiles.

Circumnavigated
my drowned
imagination,

rocked by the tides which considered
us vile.

They won’t have
us back home, we screamed at tsunamis, but they
only threw waves back in response.

Let us cross! men pleaded, only to
immediately be
thrown overboard.

Waves pounded the masts like regret does to facts;
Pax Atlantis running rampant over the chances of
reaching land.

And then,

the black clouds part and the heart in my throat
settles like dust;
the rats jump ship
covered in the captain’s blood.

A chain of islands to some,
a New World to me.

Sunshine between broken darkness;
a home like this one is
the only thing I might
ever need.

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