While working at our respective workdesks this morning, pent-up in the house by 40MPH winds, my husband and I came across this poem. It immediately hit a chord in each of us. We wish to break free of this winter-enforced cocoon of inactivity, get back out on the water and go wandering.
The ships are lying in the bay,
The gulls are swinging round their spars;
My soul as eagerly as they,
Desires the margin of the stars.
So much do I love wandering,
So much I love the sea and sky,
That it will be a piteous thing
In one small grave to lie.