A Poem...

As some of you already know, I got my creative writing start as a 6th grader. I wrote a scary story for a contest and won a chocolate cat. Mmmm...and a writer was born. But what you may not know is that my first creative passion came in the form of poetry. In high school, I constantly found myself feeling all manor of extreme emotions. Poetry became an outlet. I still love to write poetry and song lyrics. Here's my most recent poem.


So Many Ships

So many ships set sail.
In the beginning, strong
ships, sturdy
ships, and proud.

Their tall masts
like stiff necks, spurn
the shores, break
free from port, and wander
out into a vast
and churning
sea.

So many ships.
Uncountable sails
of every color,
every type, a mighty
force, but the sea
is bigger still.

In the middle
of a wide and featureless
sea, far away
from the horizon,
the ships are tossed
about by rolling
waves. No rudder,
no ship’s wheel, but wide, wide sails
to catch each breath, each gust, each gail.
And spare sails below
deck for when the first ones tear.

So many ships sail a zig-zagging
careening path
but always into the storm.
Always fearing, never steering,
these ships go on the whim
of wind or wave. The current takes them,
and they barely resist.

Suddenly, a few
ships, a tiny remnant, break
away from the leery
crowd and race
toward the Sun.
These few ships, outcasts
all, with their closed
cabins, leaning
masts, and tiny
sails are no longer slaves,
no longer Captain—less.

But the other ships, so many ships
sail on, now refusing
to change course. Sails tattered,
decks and masts creaking
In the end, as night falls,
there are stars. They shine,
they guide, they beckon,
but the ships ignore
the call. They sail aimlessly
on. And the horizon is close.

Perilously close.

by Wayne Thomas Batson