Sailing through the Straits of Confusion

I knew it would come to this. Still, when the storm winds caught the ship, my light went out.

The black waters lashed at us. I lost my footing. The deck heaved and fell and I couldn’t tell up from down, sky from water, breath from fear. I grasped at the railing, but in my hand it was a loose unanchored thing. I grasped at a rope, but it was my own hair, and bound only to my own self, I fell free.

How long did I fall through the roil and tumble? Immeasurable.

I wept for the ship I had lead into ruin. I wept for the sure-footed crew. I wept for the monkey with his tiny gripping toes, and I wept for the bright feathered bird.

It was in my last surrender I heard it, a barking bright laugh, a song. It was Rebecca, face into the wind and giddy with the ride of the waves. And so we were saved.

Through the storm’s dark raging, I was cradled in the net of her song as she sang:

Come what may
We will carry on
Come what may
Come what may

OOO