The Rain

All my life has been spent in harbor
Feet planted port side eyes fixed starboard
Every day seems harder
Harder to stay put
But then every step I take seems like I started out on the wrong foot.
I just need a little push
I've heard the sea is rough
And generally thats enough to persuade my roots to dig deeper into the pier
It appears the my peers feel the same
A forest of people to scared to get in the boat but to intrigued to look away
We just stare at the frontier
We look hope in the face, but turn away in fear
Uncertain that the boat can handle the waves
If the boat can handle the days, upon days, upon days of rain
And I'm sick of it
All I can see is sickness and its existence
And so even if seasickness is my reward for this resistance
Than so be it.
I'd rather die in the storms at sea than on a pier straining to see it
But I can't do it alone.
This boat is sturdy but still sways
I need assurance in this journey
I need an anchor
And a way to keep my vessel tethered
A rock to keep my boat in place when the storms of life seek to drown me in self-pity and disgrace
A rock to remind me to be more bow(?) and less stern
A rock to remind me the reward is better than earthly measure
So whether or not the weather takes a turn for the worst'

I welcome the rain

and leave behind

an empty hearse.