Fortunes

The fortunes of seas and sailors often interchange
There are riddles in the skies of night
Writing windows upon the waves,
Storms boiling from the southern spheres
Pouring rumors through high walls of glass
Clear as a summer day until evening appears
When all that was once is gone until
A break in the weather
The cry of seagulls piercing shrill
Battles of lost years, unknown faces and forms are cast
Into shadowy relief invisibly vague
Like the ghosts they have become in time
Drawn to navigate and ancient rhyme
Pulled from quadrants flung too far to span
For who is there to say what must go and what remain
The fortunes of seas and sailors often interchange...



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2025-06-20 at 01:50

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anonface The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem feels like a ballad for the uncharted—of waters, of time, of lives adrift. It captures the awe and trepidation of standing before something so vast, so untameable, where human agency is but a faint whisper against the roar of elements.
2025-06-20