Build the Wreckage

I am nothing more than an aftermath of a storm, sprawled on the shore asking the wrong question. My ship in pieces and life in ruins, I am a broken vessel dried up as I reach for You. Take my desire and conform it, to sail where I’m called. It was in that moment of being seduced into the rocks by the prevailing winds, indulging in the scent of fresh rain, I knew it was unavoidable to be humbled and broken, wrecked! It’s the apathy before the storm. To where the rock fracture my body water pours into my soul weighing me down, sinking into a dark abyss in the silence of a tragedy, heaven my only witness. All hands on deck, but I’m the only one who can fight this battle. The angel on my bow submersed in the crushing tide along with the broken mast where my heart lays. What fogged my sight to be so carless, so unaware of the waves with ill intent? These forces besiege my well being, and introduce a deluge to my fears. I fall under the oceans spell and wake to the stench of seaweed and sorrow. Do I stay or BUILD THE WRECKAGE?

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Today I set sail awaiting the North winds loving what I left behind and learning to survive with what I have. I fought death and depression compounded with the construction of a worthy vessel. The world has passed me up, but I chase after something higher and mightier than the sea. To place my mark on uncharted waters I come to take back what has perished in my life. Out of involuntary exile I emerge to never turn back. I no longer take control of the Helm, I trust a navigator with endless mercy and wisdom to guide me to what I am to be. My ship built buoyant and true I sail as the sea calls me by another name for what I was I am no more.