As a Boat

Stuck in its way a boat adrift finds land.

The wood and paint are worn, weary, distressed.

A path well-worn cuts through ocean and sand,

Patterning maps, its course of one depressed.

Teakwood manipulated until bent,

Craftsmen habitually heat and mold.

Sailors repeat their course, by water rent;

Their lives complete within the sail, behold

The repeat course each day same as the last.

Stuck in their ways their minds a distant thought.

Free though discouraged, a dark shadow cast.

Should one try to stray for a new net caught

In some distant sea, the worn wood might find

Refreshing hosts of hope that will not bind.