Why?

My craft is small, my vessel weak, not fit for ocean gale.

Yet here I rush, into the deep, where wind and waves assail.

The swells are high, the troughs are deep, their darkness swallows me.

Yet blindly, fiercely on I sail, thrust forward, helplessly.

What whim or fancy guides my fate? What sure & steady will?

One lifts me up; one thrusts me forth, and I am floating still.

What purpose drives the raging sea against my bark so small?

What sighing wind speaks earnestly of hope despite it all, 

As if a portal just ahead, lies safe & full of light,

Awaiting, through the raging storm, my exit from the night?

for my dear friends, Sif Kadak and Alayne Adams 💗