Portable Time Machine
Now is the hour of the friendly wolf, licking your face like a puppy while cool evening breezes roll across the waves. Dreaming of sailboats on a westerly course for the Yucatan. Exploring the difference between knowing and longing. Yes, and yes again. Wanderlust mingling with windward sails. It’s a way of catching up to yesterday without the aid of time altering devices. Below deck, we hold candles close to our faces to see what each other is thinking. Noticing how the light glints brightly up off the crest of each wave. We joyful few, this hastily put together crew, had only planned on a three-hour tour, but we left our portable time machine on the other more seaworthy craft. Before we know it, we’re at some kind of a beginning. All eyes aboard scanning horizon. Feeling the deep mystery of atmospheric blue and frothy wetness under. The center mists out into each. On top of sea, or gulf, or endless ocean, we are on a timeless trajectory—known to be full of wonder and adventure, partaking of the knowledge of night winds and steering by constellations, grateful for all who shall sail these mighty waters after us.
