Sailing Cape Town

Old sails, built to defy fierce oppressive, fierce, and overwhelming forces of the ocean. Many have sailed and left memories for their widows as they lay in wait at the harbor. Piers soaked with tears much more than it was ever soaked with waves and rain. And yet I still sail, burdened with the responsibility of lives so many. For years I have put on many hats, but this one held so tight I couldn't take off; or maybe I wouldn't. In the middle of the ocean, life is a ship, home is a deck and pride is a flag. Sailors are unique creatures, trapped in their own minds, on a lonely float. They interpret life and all the unknown, all that dwells above and all that lie beneath according to their secret thinking. Navigating crew, we sailed south, towards the cape of Africa, towards their worst fears. Some think demons dwell on those rocks, others envision sirens, hoping of a sweet death. "The captain is an old restless fool" they think, I smile unnoticed, like a faint ghost, as a silent spirit. I've worked with man sailors, and I know the thoughts of this ship. Nothing surprises me any old way. Without a sword, or a loud voice.. I still know how to freeze someone out. It's not worth it now, we are caught up in the eye of a storm.

Till now I have cut the main sail loose, fixed my rudder, and sealed couple of sailors in the brig. Some think we are doomed, others; cursed and the rest are drinking the night away. A shark is now a blessing for a few of them, the great whites linger around. For me the storm is so quiet, slow; and thought scenes flash before my eyes, even memories of my past, my senses quieten. Chaos is a highly organized wisdom making a severe change. Chaos is the mire clay out of which creation came to existence. Dust today is so worthless, but deep in that vast space, it was Priceless! Come to think of it, Man was created out of dust. Amazes me how we spit on the same path we walk on, our origin. Now, we are only caught in the rage of the same old earth we ignored, a careless mass mindlessly brawling, with a ship's fate sliding along the endless mathematical probabilities. A dice of live or die. Fortunately it's not up to chance, neither it is up to fate. All the obscurities that a mindless sailor could utter in his endeavor to fathom the sensible obliviousness of life.

Black, Seemingly endless. Salt and sweat. Pain and the strife for ones life. A woman prays at home, while a husband hangs by a thread. Irony I see, silent I be. Smile? Why not? It's over now. Ship sails wounded as it's blood trails its soon to vanish traces at those raging waters. The sea remembers none, but the fearful remember all.

May sunshine wash away the salt on your wounds,
May light blow away that smoke in your eyes.
May you get those wings, and fly,
and your sails hold, so strong, so high.

O Mate let your hands be strong, Our night is so long.
Sing to thee and sing to me, out of the trap may we flee.
Onto the light lead me, skipper, that light, again I want to see.
Sing to thee and sing to me, out of the trap may we flee.

Sing lads, round the cape, sing your troubles away.. All the way.