30 days of 42 out at sea
Sing in me, Muse, and
through me tell the story
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy.
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy.
He saw the townlands
and learned the minds
of many distant men,
and weathered many bitter nights and days
in his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
to save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
and weathered many bitter nights and days
in his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
to save his life, to bring his shipmates home.
Homer, The Odyssey
Unfortunately we have no Troy, no great battle with
Epic ships and heroic men with their swords and
shields.
We do have warm bodies with broken hearts
And sailors who travel upon steel ships
Invisible journeys around the world and back
Again. No epic poem
written for their heart ache
And small duties that keep the vessel moving at a
Break-neck speed.
We do have real men with depth behind their land
locked eyes.
Does the sea rise and fall behind a
simple façade.
Their emotion is like the sea,
We can never know the true depth,
We can only dive in, learn to swim
Hold our breath,
and hope the memory of breathing
Water becomes a desire again
The gods, witches and underworld
Wait for him, wanting to tear him to pieces
Monsters and strange spells cast their nets upon the
wanderer
He does not hear Athena whispering in his ear…she has been
lost for
So long.
The epic hero exists, but is invisible
To the untrained eye.
The sailors, every-dayers, hidden heroes are all epic
With hearts reaching for a charmed life lost
Let a muse summons you into
Their lair of fire
Let the world melt into
Your own creative wandering
You have a sacred compass within
Just listen.
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