A Sailboat leaves the harbor hopefully.
It finds the ocean and mistakes it for home.
The ocean loves the little boat not.
The ocean loves to move and turn the boat.
It loves to fill the boat's sails and pull it along.
Stronger and stronger it pulls.
The ocean doesn't notice the tears in the sails.
It pulls and feels the joy of knowing the Sailboat is it's own.
And when the Sailboat is ready to sink the Ocean doesn't see - it's hurricane eyes are elsewhere.
And while the Sailboat fills with more and more water it hears something.
A call from the shore that had seemed so far away.
So, the Sailboat floats as best it can in the direction of the call
And somehow, unbelievably, the Sailboat returns to the Harbor.
It cannot sail anymore - or it simply doesn't want to.
The Sailboat hears the Ocean screaming with it's sharp waves for it's boat to return.
Even a silly little boat knows that the waves will swallow the Sailboat whole if it does.
What a cowardly boat it is.
The boat thinks this, but still wishes that someone would come take it apart and fashion it into something new.
This Sailboat does not want to fix it's sails.
It wants to use it's wood to build something steady and whole.
But it doesn't know where to begin, you see.
Because it has, for as long as it can remember, been a Sailboat.
And, tied to the dock, a Sailboat it remains.