A bright white craft is calling, to manifest destiny.
Existence, once in exile, transcends to spirit at sea.
A bird in flight, a dolphin's laugh, a beckon to be free,
to chart a course to be cast adrift in blind discovery.
A routine life, a mundane chore, all this we do forsake,
float free, a soul unhindered, a shackle we must break,
to soar, a seagull lost in flight, who's wingtip soon will break
the sun's last ray, a fond farewell, extinguished in our wake.
All pretenses abandoned, a pilgrim evermore,
desire a soul's enlightenment sought from a distant shore.
Tracing a path through history, follow those who've gone before.
Discovery of distant lands, once only known in lore.
Wide skies have been left behind, for wider skies ahead.
We seek to steer, to navigate, but are carried on instead.
With distant clouds for company, white billows for our bed,
our fate, to sleep, anticipate, new wonders still ahead.
The mist obscures a distant mount, for which we deeply long
to hear the smallest echo, waves whispering in song
carried on a gust for evermore, a sentiment so strong
a lyric of eternity, to which our souls belong.