It Is Coming

It Is Coming It is coming - I can feel the changes, subtle changes, in the pressure on the surface, unseen but noticeable to those who have ridden these seas before. Rising swells that slap the hull in gauntlet sting, deep creak of old familiar spars bracing, once again, to ride the coming maelstrom far out at sea, alone in howling wind blown troughs, surrounded by the white tipped fingers of a crushing hand, no escape. Frail vessel knowing only that the sea has not yet won, responds to faint commands of trembling hands that sail these fickle seas – alone. 12/12/12 submitted to –Your Favourite Old Poem #3 sponsor – Shadow Hamilton