The Open Sea - Musée Mécanique

Passing on the water’s edge

And wrinkling some time

You set your mind on moving along.

Pacing forth with pant-less breath

In the shade of the shadow-less palms—

Gold pastures of dawn—

O, the open sea …

Though the tides are new and high

Your eyes are anchored still to some old ideas

And some effortless tricks

That comfort you and hold you

While the fleas and flies still bite

Like the salty air on steel

O, what do you still feel?

Passing from the water’s edge

And tending the lines

You set your mind on moving along.

For well beyond the breakers' crash

Harvests of the blue horizon’s loom

Will offer a new and open sea

That weaves the stars and deep—

Reasons for our faith—

As the currents state and set to reveal

O, what you do still feel!

They’ll comfort you and carry you

Where the aging canvas fills

And the salty air you’ll feel…