A Plea For Fair Winds Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

I would turn the prow
to where it found the wind
rushing to fill the sails
with a shudder beneath my feet
as canvas bulged
striving to fly beyond,
to outstrip,
the sleek hull.

Many times have I seen men
go down in long deaths
of doldrums or, in sudden short-lived storms,
in syllabic shudderings of sails,
into torn silences.

Ah, but when the wind
was fair I could sail
my sleek craft
as strong as prayer
to where dolphins blindly leapt
with only sun and stars
to ’compass me,
buffeted by waves
not knowing where eventually
landfall might be.