He, in his generosity and compulsion,
Presents us with a universe unknown
To lubbers such as we
Where straight men and not so straight
Confront, because there can be no other way for them,
The Inevitable:
the awesome powers of wind and water
the workings of chance
one's own angels and demons
ever-hovering Death
They, accumulated from everywhere and nowhere,
Pull together, though love and hate, or tempt the ultimate loss,
For one usually respects Death more than one cherishes hate
And so, the Captain-Master-God of each vessel
Forms his sometimes rebellious crew of disparate souls,
Whose peculiar desires combine to bring stuff from there to here
But the bringing and returning of other men's goods is not the goal
The prize is the self-recognition of
one's strength
one's resolve
one's skill
one's very manhood
Until the sea,
Or the land for those who tire before an honorable end,
Calls them to its forever embrace
