Some nights the moon
And stars rise,
Encircle 'round my mast,
While I watch lights
Of distant cities peek
On my horizon.

I have watched them come
Those other ships.
Forms in the night
Some close, some far,
But most have slipped the wake
Of my horizon.

Some nights the fog
And darkness come,
Enfold around so close,
I cannot see those things
Which lie beyond,
On my horizon.

I have watched it stretch
To points beyond
What some call God;
Now close, now far,
Beyond the end
Of my horizon.

Seven nine, eight three, eight five,
And cries of laughter,
Smiles on faces,
White knuckles on a helm
And a feeling
Few can understand.

Lines taut,
Sails straining
To gather that last ounce
Of power from the wind,
And seven tons of boat
Hang,
At some precarious angle
On the tips of your fingers.

You turn
Hard to the wind
And tiny drops of water
Splash up
And cross the windward rail;
Shouting their joy
By glinting sunlight
Back towards the cockpit
Then leave their scent,
A salty taste,
Upon
your lips.

You have caught it
This fever of the sea.
The wind has tossed your hair;
The sun has warmed your back;
And the sea
Embraced you to her breast.

You'll love and live and fear her
From now on.
She has made love to you,
And left you wanting more.
You'll never be
Just quite the same
Again.