A Sailor's Song

On a plank of wood,

and accompanied by the vast ocean,

I see myself going nowhere,

yet not heading in the wrong direction,

They tell me that I am getting lost,

for everyone is doing things,

that I am not!

Am I perturbed?

No, I am not!

Am I mad?

Perhaps in their head.

They do not feel the waves,

on which this plank is floating,

nor the wind on their face.

That is sometimes as harsh as slapping.

they just read the stories,

written by people like me.

Then, they come near the shore,

dip their feet,

look over to the horizon,

imagine how it would feel,

to float over the wave,

to live with the wind,

and, then to share the stories,

with their grand-kid.

Like ‘The Ancient Mariner’.

Though now, when I think,

it sounds little funny to me.

The ancient mariner,

went into the sea,

fought the odds,

learned a lesson,

after committing a crime,

of killing an Albatross.

But, the funny part is,

all these people,

who come to shore,

who dip their feet,

and imagine things,

who scream at me from the shore,

that I am getting lost,

all seem to have,

Albatross hung around,

their neck,

for the reasons,

best known to them.

while they never went to sea.

I am sure they bought it,

in lieu of the heart and soul,

that they sold to a big sailor,

who was someday lost like me!

Copyright © 2013 Ankita Kashyap