Opera on the Ocean

White sails cross the distant horizon,
Azure pristine meets aqua marine.
From here it is silent but movement is there
— of that you can be sure;
The whooshing of wind in the body of fabric,
The splashing and washing of wave off stern,
The bubbling of champagne in the wake of the bow,
Demonstrations in physics,
The combining of elements — it is all there,
Moving to the free will of the wind and the air.

The curvature of the Earth can be seen in wide screen,
Beyond only ocean and the meaning of space.
The pinpoints suspended reflecting the almighty
— an almost outer body experience;
Compulsion, coercion, surprising direction,
Emotions are vague but approaching perfect,
Reduced to the simplest, and yet most complex.

Water is velvet ruffled slight at the edges,
It fills a vast and majestic expanse.
A playground of nature open for all to attend,
Symphony, synergy, and gusterly salt;
Unbridled, spiritual,
Nothing is more beautiful than this crystal clear sight,
Endless, limitless in width and in height.

New players appear at the edge of the theatre,
Coverting the clifftops setting the stage,
Rolling and frolicking, the plot is unfolding,
Waltzing white figures in bounteous numbers,
Closer together then further apart,
Tacking and spinning I can watch them all day,
Using and wasting the afternoon away.

Soft waves lap the smooth hulls of sailboats,
Perfection in nature meets perfection in man.
The two join seamlessly together,
A sense of enlightenment, the smell of true freedom,
The sun glowing through an encroaching cloudscape
Worthy of the greatest Dutch masters
— to me it is like opera on the ocean.