For Now

Throw me a rope.
Tie me securely to the dock
so the tides can not carry me away.

Wrap the hemp around the cleats
again and again, and knot it,

And I will rest here a while,
unload my burdens, gathered from the sea.
I will rest.

But only for a while,
for secureness is not my lot,
not my choice, no, send me off

to the open seas,
to horizons and strange lands
and stranger music,
to a place where tales are born
and souls are formed in the crucible of storms.

No matter that i bear the scars of my choices,
I will die, but never, never
of rust.