I stand before the wind.

Come ye endless pain and woe.

I spit at thee.

I deny thee, thou great

and terrible whale.

Come, let us see

yonder vale together.


Turn and face your past

linger enough to cast

light across its shadows.

Say what you mean at last.

Finality brings sought freedom.


Use it as a mast.

Attach your colors proudly.

Sail them rain or shine,

too resolute to fade.


Laugh while you repast,

and friends will gather 'round you.

Share wine and song together.


And when the ocean's crossed,

whether steerage or the boss,

we'll steep no waves tomorrow.

And when the descent does come,

we'll gently drift and wander.

Feathers come to rest

upon the silent floor.

Ah, I do believe,

our graves at last.