I find myself
strangely in a home
I never dreamed nor wanted.
Its a feebled reach from the water
to the seas I dreamed.

A small beautiful vessel
where I found you perched,
its white bow striped blue,
the color of your eyes.
I saw the horizon and knew how it would feel
not to remain as we were
but different.

The possibility of here and stay
or go
and the choice was made
with the tenderness
of how the key was held and the lock
no longer needed.

Because I had dreamed how it would be
to drift in that moonlit ocean,
alone.

Then you were there at my shoulder,
tiller in hand,
steering us toward home.