One foot in the boat and one on the shore
One moving, unanchored – the other still moored
The gulf ‘twixt the two creeping wider and wetter
Time now to choose quickly; which foot is the better?

I know well those things gathered neatly on land
They’re ducks in a row; they’re things I have planned
But the sea stretches wide like a beckoning grin
The calling of sirens to dive headlong in

This sea, she is wild – alive and untamed
She’ll take all or just some, but you’ll always be changed
She can thrash you and drown you with surf frothy white
Or be calm and demure ‘neath a ship watertight

I wonder if Leif, son of Erik, turned ‘round
To count things that he lost for new things to be found:
The comfort of home, the embrace of a father
Given up in exchange for adventure on water…

Can I – though a planner and plotter I be –
Find peace and find comfort while unmoored at sea??
Is it worth leaving all that I know and hold dear?
Should I give in, not live in this protective fear?

Or better it be that I chase the unknown
And find wave after wave that my courage has grown?
To embark on a journey with course yet unmapped
To chase dreams that lifelong by my fear have been trapped?

My soul thrills, my heart leaps, but I cannot discern
Whether fear grips or hope flies – so split-stepped I turn
What things are behind me? What moorings hold fast?
Can I let now my present things slide into past?

One foot pointed forward and one anchored back
This posture – if held long – will split me in half